THE FIGHT FOR 
 E ARGONNE 
 
 BENJAMIN "SX^ST 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/fightforargonnepOOwestrich 
 
The Fight for the 
 Argonne 
 
 Personal Experiences of a "Y" Man 
 WILLIAM BENJAMIN WEST 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 BY 
 
 BURGES JOHNSON 
 
 THE ABINGDON PRESS 
 NEW YORK CINCINNATI 
 
3s> 
 
 Copyright, 1919, by 
 WILLIAM BENJAMIN WEST 
 
 •- • •• 
 
df. 
 
 TO THE BOYS OF THE 37th DIVISION A. E. F. 
 
 WITH WHOM I WAS PRIVILEGED TO 
 
 SERVE ON THE ALSATIAN BORDER 
 
 AND IN THE ARGONNE 
 
 4i(]:^7;s 
 
FIGHTING UNITS OP THE 
 37th division 
 guard army (ohio) 
 
 AND THEIR COMMANDING 
 PERSONNEL ON SEPT. 5th, 1918 
 
 37th division 
 Major General C. S. Farnsworth 
 
 Commanding. 
 
 Lieut. Colonel Dana T. Merrill 
 
 Chief of StaflP. 
 
 Major Edward W. Wildrick 
 
 Adjutant General. 
 
 73rd brigade of INFANTRY 
 
 Brig. General C. F. Zimmerman 
 
 Commanding. 
 
 145th Regiment 
 
 CoL. Sanford B. Stanberry. 
 
 146th Regiment 
 
 Col. C. C. Weybrecht. 
 
 135th Machine Gun Battalion 
 
 Major Charles C. Chambers. 
 
 74th brigade of INFANTRY 
 
 Brig. General W. P. Jackson 
 
 Commanding. 
 
 147th Regiment 
 
 Col. F. W. Galbraith, Jr. 
 
148th Regiment 
 Col. George H. Wood. 
 
 136th Machine Gun Battalion 
 Major John A. Logan. 
 
 62nd brigade of FIELD ARTILLERY 
 
 Commanding officer not announced 
 
 134th Regiment 
 Col. Harold M. Brush. 
 
 135th Regiment 
 Col. Dudley M. Hard. 
 
 136th Regiment 
 Col. Paul L. Mitchell. 
 
 112th Trench Mortar Battery 
 Captain A. S. Dillon. 
 
 ENGINEER TROOPS 
 
 112th Regiment 
 Col. John R. McQuigg. 
 
 SIGNAL TROOPS 
 
 112th Field Signal Battalion 
 Major Russell L. Mundhenk. 
 
 DIVISION UNITS 
 
 37th Division Headquarters Troop 
 Captain Frank F. Frebis. 
 
 134th Machine Gun Battalion 
 Major Wade C. Christy. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 Introduction 11 
 
 I. Five Weeks in a Flivver 15 
 
 II. On the Move 42 
 
 III. Our Invincibles 54 
 
 IV. Holding the Line 71 
 
 V. Tanks and Tractors 83 
 
 VI. Pen Pictures 91 
 
 VII. Moral Flashes 112 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Ford Camionette Driven by W. B. 
 West Frontispiece 
 
 Facing page 
 
 German Aerial Bomb (small) 24 
 
 German Aerial Bomb (large) 48 
 
 Memory Sketch of a Sector of the 
 Battlefield, 1918 54 
 
 French Officer — German Officer 64 
 
 German Weapons 94 
 
 Varieties of Shells and Bombs (Photo- 
 graphed AT Nancy) 120 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 IT was on the road from Neuf cha- 
 teau to La Foche, where Base Hos- 
 pital 117 was located, that I first be- 
 came acquainted with the author of this 
 book. He evidently knew how to run a 
 Ford camionette, even though it was not 
 in just the shape in which it left the fac- 
 tory. I remember that I asked him 
 what he did for a hving back in the 
 States — ^those service uniforms were 
 great levelers — and he said he was a 
 parson. "But now you are a chauf- 
 feur," I objected. "Well, you see," he 
 said, "when I first came over they asked 
 me to fill out blanks indicating what I 
 could do, and in that statement I ad- 
 mitted that I could run a car. I also 
 said I could preach. They tried me out 
 as a chauffeur and liked my work so 
 well that they said they would stand pat 
 11 
 
' '' • •''' -'^ '' kNTRDli'uCTION 
 
 on that; they had never heard me 
 preach." 
 
 As a matter of fact, I heard Mr. 
 West preach that morning to the boys 
 suffering from war neurosis, or "shell 
 shock," in Hospital 117. He had 
 helped them out on former Sundays 
 there, and they sent for him again and 
 again. 
 
 Later, when I was in the Baccarat 
 sector, I met a most interesting and 
 effective man who was in the Supply 
 Department of the "Y" on week days, 
 and conducted services in outlying 
 camps every Sunday morning with 
 great success. He had been a circus 
 acrobat back in the States. What a 
 revolutionizing influence war is, with 
 preachers chauffeuring and acrobats 
 preaching! The important point was 
 that they were all serving whole-heart- 
 edly in whatever way they could. 
 
 It was in Baccarat that I met West 
 again, running his car, transporting 
 newspapers or moving-picture ma- 
 12 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 chines, or canteen supplies, or itinerant 
 entertainers such as I, out over any sort 
 of road toward the front line. His 
 glimpses of the great war were from an 
 angle of vision that makes what he has 
 to say in this book well worth reading. 
 His duties took him into every sort of 
 .billet, and brought him into close touch 
 with many branches of the army, as well 
 as with all sorts of welfare work and 
 workers. I find that he refers, in pass- 
 ing, to that dramatic moment when we 
 stood on a hilltop and watched the 
 bombing of Baccarat just below us, 
 while the Boche machine passed very 
 close overhead. He does not say that he 
 hid behind one tree and I hid behind an- 
 other, trying to keep the trunks between 
 us and the flying shrapnel. Nor does 
 he say that he picked up and carried 
 home a fragment which landed between 
 us in the road, although it came just as 
 near to me as it did to him! 
 
 This started out to be an introduction 
 to a book. It is really a personal ex- 
 13 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 pression of good will toward one whom 
 I was glad to meet and touch for a 
 moment in that strange whirlpool of hu- 
 man activity last summer in France. 
 BuRGES Johnson. 
 
 Vassar College, 
 
 March 3, 1919. 
 
 14 
 
CHAPTER I 
 FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 ^•TTALTr 
 
 JL A When above the noise and 
 rattle of the car — for a Ford always 
 carries a rattle — ^you hear the stentorian 
 command of the guard, instantly every 
 stopping device is automatically ap- 
 plied. 
 
 ''Who Goes Therer 
 "A friend with the countersign," 
 "Advance ! and give the countersign." 
 The guard at charge, with bayonet 
 fixed, awaits your coming. When you 
 get within a few feet of the point of 
 his bayonet the guard again commands, 
 ''Haltr In the silence and blackness of 
 the night you whisper the password and 
 if he is satisfied that you are indeed a 
 friend he says, "Pass, friend." If he is 
 not satisfied you are detained until your 
 identity has been established. 
 15 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 No matter how many hundreds of 
 times you hear the challenge ring out, 
 each time you hear it a new thrill runs 
 through your whole being and a new 
 respect for military authority holds you 
 captive, for you instinctively know that 
 behind that challenge is the cold steel 
 and a deadly missile. 
 
 It was a splendidly camouflaged 
 camionette that I inherited from 
 Hughes when I went to Baccarat on the 
 Alsatian border. In all my dangerous 
 trips, by night and day, it never failed, 
 and I think back to it now with a ten- 
 derness bordering on affection. 
 
 My first day on the job I was sent out 
 to five huts with supplies, driving my 
 own car and piloting the men who were 
 sent out to pilot me. Although they had 
 been over the roads and were supposed 
 to know the way, they did not have a 
 good sense of direction and so were 
 easily lost. 
 
 The headquarters of the 37th Divi- 
 sion were at Baccarat on the Alsatian 
 16 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 border. Strasburg lay fifty miles to the 
 east and Metz fifty-five miles to the 
 northwest. To hold this front, an area 
 fifteen to twenty miles long, was the 
 task of the Ohio boys until they were 
 relieved by the French the middle of 
 September and sent into the Argonne 
 Forest. 
 
 Over this area were scattered twenty- 
 one Y. M. C. A. huts. The Head- 
 quarters hut was at Baccarat, which was 
 farthest from the front line — about ten 
 miles back as the crow flies. The other 
 huts were scattered over the area at 
 points most advantageous for serving 
 the boys and up to within a few hundred 
 yards of the line. We had thirty-four 
 men and ten women secretaries. Our 
 farthest advanced woman v^rker had a 
 hut all her own at Hablainville, a vil- 
 lage where our troops were billeted and 
 where Fritzie kept everyone on the qui 
 vive by his intermittent gifts of high- 
 explosive bombs and shells. 
 
 Miss O'Connor always inspired con- 
 17 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 fidence. It mattered not whether she 
 was deahng with the hysterical French 
 women when bombs exploded in their 
 gardens and fields, or whether she \vas 
 counseling with the Colonel, at whose 
 table she was the invited guest. Her 
 quiet assurance, her cordial greeting, 
 her intelligent understanding, and her 
 keen sally of wit made her always wel- 
 come. And the boys thronged her hut. 
 She did not try to "mother" them — ^the 
 mistake some canteen workers made. 
 Nor did she try to "make an impres- 
 sion" upon them. She quietly lived her 
 life among them. No one could long 
 be boisterous where she was, and so I 
 always found her hut a rendezvous 
 where men were glad to resort as they 
 came from the battle or from camp. 
 
 Many were absorbed in their reading, 
 of which there was a good assortment — 
 the daily papers, the magazines and a 
 choice collection of books furnished by 
 the American Library Association. 
 Other groups were intent upon chess or 
 18 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 checkers, while in the piano corner were 
 the musically inclined. Sometimes it 
 was a piano or a baritone solo, but most 
 often the boys were singing "Keep the 
 Home Fires Burning,'' "The Long, 
 Long Trail," or "Katy." 
 
 One day when dehvering to the hut at 
 Neufchateau, I was attracted by the 
 strains of music that came from the 
 piano in the auditorium — the "Y" there 
 had a large double hut, I sUpped into 
 a back seat to listen. A group of boys 
 were around the piano while others were 
 scattered through the building attracted 
 as I had been. At the old French piano 
 was a small khaki-clad figure, coaxing 
 from its keys with wizard fingers such 
 strains as we had not dreamed were pos- 
 sible. We were held spellbound until 
 the musician, having finished, quietly 
 walked away, leaving his auditors sus- 
 pended somewhere between earth and 
 heaven. One by one we walked silently 
 out to our respective duties of helping 
 to make the world safe for such as he. 
 19 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 One Sunday evening just at dusk, I 
 drove to our camp at Ker Avor. The 
 boys called this camp their summer 
 home. It surely was an ideal spot in 
 the heart of a pine forest, high up in the 
 Vosges Mountains. It was also near 
 enough to the enemy lines — about a mile 
 distant — to make it mighty interesting. 
 
 After delivering our supplies to the 
 hut we went out to where a gang of sol- 
 diers who were off duty had gathered in 
 the forest. One was playing a har- 
 monica and another was ''jigging" and 
 telling funny stories. Instantly and 
 gladly they swung the gathering into a 
 religious service, with songs from the 
 "Y" hymn book and a fine snappy ad- 
 dress as a speaker stood on a hum- 
 mock surrounded by the silent, thought- 
 ful bunch. The sky was our canopy 
 and with the moonlight filtering 
 through the branches of the pines, an 
 indelible impression was registered on 
 every fellow there. 
 
 The boys were happy to have us come 
 20 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 and showed us about their camp, in- 
 cluding an ingenious little chapel which 
 had been built by the Germans during 
 their occupancy of this territory in the 
 early part of the War. 
 
 My first near view of the Boche 
 trenches came one day when, waiting 
 for our movie man at one of the huts, 
 I went out ^'masked and helmeted" to 
 a hill between our first and second lines. 
 The peculiar "chills" and "thrills" of 
 first sensations are indescribable. Cau- 
 tiously and with some inward trembling 
 I followed Private Van Vohet, of the 
 146th Infantry (Colonel Weybrecht's 
 Regiment), across a shell-torn field 
 where twisted wire entanglements told 
 of former fierce encounters. We passed 
 a Stokes mortar battery of the 147th 
 Infantry concealed in low bushes. The 
 boys, lying idly in their dog-tents, wove 
 canes from willow branches wound with 
 wire and capped with bullets. I was 
 presented with a cane by Private Booth- 
 21 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 by and a swagger stick by Private 
 Rhoades. 
 
 A five minute walk brought us to the 
 "alert zone," where gas masks must be 
 adjusted and ready for instant use. 
 The guard at the crossroad allowed us 
 to pass with the warning, "Keep under 
 cover or you will draw the fire of the 
 Boche snipers." So we crawled through 
 a hole in the camouflaged screen which 
 protected the road from German ob- 
 servers, and keeping behind clumps of 
 bushes we peered through at the 
 trenches just across the valley, in which 
 Hun rifles lay cocked and primed for 
 any American who would dare become 
 a target. I confess I breathed easier 
 when we got safely back to the " Y" hut. 
 
 Night Bombing 
 
 For four nights in succession Boche 
 planes had been trying to drop bombs 
 on the rail-head where troop trains were 
 being loaded near our Headquarters. 
 On the fourth night, when returning 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 from a front line hut with Secretary 
 Johnson, who in America was a pro- 
 fessor in Vassar College, we stopped on 
 a high ridge overlooking the battle hne. 
 This was a favorite rendezvous on my 
 return from night deliveries, as it gave 
 a wonderful panoramic view of the 
 whole front line for miles in either direc- 
 tion. The flashes of the guns, the daz- 
 zling brilliancy of the star shells, the 
 long lines of varicolored signals as they 
 went up from many camps and out- 
 posts, and the flares dropped from 
 scores of planes, passing and repassing 
 in the darkness overhead, can never be 
 forgotten. It was a nightly and won- 
 derful Fourth of July celebration, en- 
 hanced by the weirdness and danger of 
 actual warfare. 
 
 As we stood this night, silhouetted 
 against the moonht sky, wearing our 
 "tin" hats and with gas masks at 
 "alert," suddenly out of the night 
 loomed a German plane, flying low, the 
 Boche engine distinguished by its own 
 ^3 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 peculiar throb. As it passed over our 
 heads it dropped a red flare and pro- 
 ceeded toward Baccarat. Evidently, it 
 had discovered our signals for that night 
 and was using them. As soon as its de- 
 ception was discovered our gunners 
 opened fire, but not until it had dropped 
 four bombs on the town and gotten 
 away in safety toward the German lines. 
 The explosions from the bombs were 
 terrific and the flashes lit up the whole 
 sky. We took refuge behind trees as 
 shrapnel from our anti-aircraft guns 
 rattled down in the roadway and the 
 "ping" of machine-gun bullets startled 
 our ears. 
 
 When we returned to town we found 
 everything in confusion. One bomb 
 had exploded in the treetops a half 
 block from our billet and had wrecked 
 the beautiful mansion of the French 
 mayor of the town. It also wounded 
 some American soldiers in a nearby bar- 
 racks. Another bomb landed between 
 two buildings at Hexo Barracks, killing 
 
GERMAN AERIAL BOMB 
 (Small) 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 three of our boys and one French poilu, 
 besides wounding many and shattering 
 the buildings. Four horses were killed 
 by pieces of shrapnel, and when looking 
 over the scene of destruction the next 
 morning I noticed a hole, clean cut, 
 through a half -inch steel tire on a near- 
 by cart. It had been cut by a piece of 
 shrapnel about an inch long which had 
 also gone through spokes and hub and 
 buried itself in the ground. 
 
 At four o'clock one day, after the 
 regular round of hut deliveries, a special 
 order was handed me from our chief for 
 immediate execution. In ten minutes 
 I was off in my ever-faithful flivver. 
 My order took me to Reherrey, a village 
 near the line, where a special pass was 
 secured from the commanding officer, 
 allowing me to go over a dangerous road 
 exposed to the German guns. From 
 the Y. M. C. A. Hut at Reherrey, I 
 took with me a new secretary, a Congre- 
 gational minister from the Middle 
 West, to relieve McGuffy, the secretary 
 25 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 at St. Pole, whom I was to bring back 
 to headquarters. 
 
 When we reached the hut at St. 
 Pole, the secretaries, including Mc- 
 Guffy, were out at the front with sup- 
 phes for the boys. While waiting for 
 them to return we strolled about 
 through the desolate remnants of this 
 old peasant village. My companion had 
 not been under fire before, so when the 
 first shell from the Boche "heavies" 
 came whistling and whining toward us 
 he hastened to the dugout saying, 
 "This is no place for me." He was 
 ashamed of his own fear and proved that 
 he was a "regular guy" by joining in the 
 laugh and jibes of the fellows. Being 
 reassured by the passing of several 
 shells safely overhead, he rejoined me in 
 our tramp through the village. Every 
 portable thing of value had been carried 
 off by the Huns and what was left had 
 been destroyed. Stoves had been 
 broken down and beds and furniture 
 demolished. 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 When McGuffy got back we started 
 for Baccarat. It was a stormy night, 
 black as ink, and we had to go over 
 roads which the bombardment of the 
 early evening had torn up. It took two 
 horn's to go eight miles. When we ar- 
 rived we found an anxious group of 
 "Y" workers discussing the probability 
 of our having been blown to pieces or 
 captured by the Boche, and they were 
 just about to send out a searching party. 
 
 No soldiers ever had anything on the 
 boys from the Buckeye State. They 
 had been sent to the Alsatian border to 
 hold the line against a threatening foe. 
 Persistent rumors told of a German 
 drive on this sector. Nothing but our 
 men and guns and a few hastily con- 
 structed wire entanglements stood in 
 their way. And the German army had 
 a name for sweeping right through such 
 open country and taking what it 
 wanted. But many things caused Fritz 
 27 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 to stop and think. The German raiding 
 parties were failures. Only two out of 
 a score succeeded in getting the Amer- 
 icans. That meant that the Yankee 
 out-posts were not only on the job but 
 also that they were absolutely fearless 
 and able to capture single-handed 
 superior numbers of the enemy. 
 
 Then, one night just as the Germans 
 seemed to be concentrating on a danger- 
 ous sahent, eighty of our big guns in a 
 couple of hours coughed up twelve 
 hundred tons of gas and spit it in the 
 faces of an enemy that dared to think it 
 could fool with Uncle Sam's boys from 
 Ohio. For two days after, the Boche 
 were carrying their dead out of that 
 area. 
 
 No more threats of a German drive 
 were heard in that sector, but reports 
 came frequently of Boche prisoners and 
 deserters who offered to surrender whole 
 companies of Huns if they could only 
 be guaranteed that the Americans 
 would spare their hves, 
 28 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVA^ER 
 
 Major H, a friend of old college days, 
 was a staff officer of the 37th Division 
 and was as brave as he was big. His 
 clear brain and military genius laid 
 out our machine-gun nests. He had 
 studied carefully every foot of ground 
 and planted machine guns wherever 
 they could command an enemy advance 
 or night raid. The direct and crossfire 
 of these guns were so coordinated that 
 many guns could play upon a danger- 
 ous enemy approach. It was a most 
 exciting chess game which was being 
 played with real armies and men. 
 
 The Petty Post was the strategic 
 point of our army out in No Man's 
 Land, and signals from the post would 
 give warning of any sudden move of the 
 enemy. Its location was changed from 
 time to time. 
 
 On August 27, at 7 :30 p. m.^ we left 
 headquarters in the official car. Two 
 chauffeurs who knew every shell-hole in 
 the roads and who could feel their way 
 in the darkness were in the front seat. 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 Major Hazlett and another major who 
 was inspecting trench conditions and 
 personal equipment were on either side 
 of me in the back seat. The powerful 
 motor ''purring" quietly waited Major 
 Hazlett's "We're off." Quickly the 
 eight kilometers to the field headquar- 
 ters of Colonel Galbraith, 147th Regi- 
 ment, were covered. After cordial 
 greetings the Major was closeted in 
 secret conference with the Colonel. In 
 a half hour we were off again. Major 
 Hazlett alone knew his objective. 
 That night it was the sector near Heber- 
 viller. The captain's headquarters was 
 a little frame shack eight by ten feet, 
 carefully guarded in the heart of a 
 dense woods. The sentry at the door 
 demanded the password. In the weird 
 candlelight were the captain and four 
 aides. We sat on empty boxes and the 
 edge of a table. Rimners coming in out 
 of the blackness of the forest stood at 
 attention while they communicated their 
 secret information and awaited further 
 30 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 orders. Here investigations were made 
 and all the latest "dope" on possible 
 enemy action was obtained. 
 
 It was gratifying to note the solici- 
 tude of the officers for the comfort of 
 the men. It was early fall and the 
 nights were cool. 
 
 "Captain," said the Major, "how are 
 your men dressed?" 
 
 "There is no complaint, sir." 
 
 "Do they still have their summer 
 underwear?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "It is getting too cold for that. I will 
 see that a new issue is granted." 
 
 All stood to salute as we took our de- 
 parture. When again on our way the 
 conversation of the back seat showed 
 that the interest of these officers in their 
 men was genuine. For example : 
 
 "Harry, those boys do not have any 
 overcoats. Nothing but raincoats for 
 these cold nights. Whose fault is that? 
 Can't you get some action?" 
 
 "They must have them immediately. 
 31 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 I will so report to the Issue Depart- 
 ment." 
 
 Many times our car came to a sud- 
 den stop as a stentorian '*Halt!" pierced 
 the darkness and our second chauffeur 
 went forward to give the countersign. 
 One weak-voiced guard failed to make 
 himself heard until our car was almost 
 past. Major Hazlett was instantly- 
 aroused: 
 
 "What is the matter with your voice?" 
 
 "Nothing, sir. 
 
 "Then shout it out. If this happens 
 again I'll have you court-martialed." 
 
 "Yes, sir!" And with a salute we 
 proceeded. 
 
 Our last mile with the car was over 
 shell-torn roads and past guards who 
 dared to pass no man without full proof 
 of his identity. Many German spies 
 had been caught recently. Through the 
 ruined village of Heberviller we passed 
 to the old chateau. Here we left the 
 car with the chauffeurs, and having been 
 armed we started with two guides for 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 the trenches. Every gun emplacement 
 was inspected to see if orders had been 
 faithfully carried out — and woe betide 
 the man who failed. The Major's inti- 
 mate and technical knowledge of every 
 detail in machine-gun fighting, won the 
 admiration of the men. 
 
 For three hours we walked "duck- 
 boards"^ through a maze of connecting 
 trenches, stealthily and silently follow- 
 ing our guides and stopping "dead" 
 when a star shell burst near us. We had 
 secret hopes of taking prisoner some 
 of the "Heinies" whom we could almost 
 hear breathing out there in No Man's 
 Land. 
 
 As we talked with the men in Petty 
 Post No. 10, the German 77's were feel- 
 ing for some vulnerable point just back 
 of our line. We could see the flash of 
 the gun and hear that pecuhar, f ascinat- 
 
 ^ Duck-boards are sections of boardwalk laid in the 
 bottom of the trenches to keep the soldiers up out of 
 the mud. These sections are about ten feet long and 
 two wide, and made by nailing cross pieces to two 
 scantling. 
 
 33 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 ing * Vhine" as it passed over our heads, 
 and finally its mocking challenge as it 
 found its target. One of the men who 
 was off guard, lay curled up in a shell 
 hole beside the trench, sleeping peace- 
 fully to the music of the guns. Con- 
 versation here was whispered, and even 
 the illuminated faces of our wrist 
 watches were carefully concealed in our 
 pockets. And every man knew well 
 the reason why. 
 
 The sergeant in charge had a "hunch" 
 that Fritz was coming over at a certain 
 hour of the early morning. We knew 
 that "dope" coming from enemy sources 
 is often misleading and decided not to 
 wait for the "party." The next day we 
 learned that the "party" was not 
 "pulled off," and our return to camp 
 gave us a few hours of perfectly good 
 and needed sleep. 
 
 An Air Battle 
 
 Boche planes overhead were so com- 
 mon as to excite little interest, but when 
 64 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 in the midst of a heavy anti-aircraft 
 barrage, the French children playing 
 outside our garage excitedly announced 
 *'Trois Boche avions," we left off "tun- 
 ing up" our engines and went out to 
 watch them — ^three specks high over- 
 head and out of range of our guns. 
 L Suddenly, from somewhere in the sky 
 
 r above, two Allied planes shot toward 
 the German "birds," and a battle en- 
 sued which we could clearly see, al- 
 though they were too high for us to hear 
 the sound of their machine guns. 
 
 With terrific burst of speed one of 
 our planes shot toward one of the Ger- 
 man planes and seemed almost to ride 
 on top of it, all the while pouring into 
 it a stream of machine gun bullets, the 
 smoke of which we could see. When 
 they separated, ours rose but the Ger- 
 man shot downward, evidently out of 
 control, and we held our breath in 
 anxious joy as we watched him drop 
 two thousand feet or more. Then as he 
 came through a cloud and was hidden 
 35 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 from the view of our planes, he suddenly- 
 righted and shot off toward the German 
 lines. 
 
 The next day the same thrilling scene 
 was staged a little to the south of us. 
 But this time there was no disappoint- 
 ment. The rapid "pu-pu-pu-pu-pu" of 
 the machine gun told us that our pilot's 
 gun was working perfectly, and a burst 
 of flame from the enemy plane told also 
 how true was his aim. 
 
 There can be no more thrilling mo- 
 ments in life than when you are watch- 
 ing bodies out of control hurtling 
 through space and are breathlessly an- 
 ticipating the crash. Your heart sus- 
 pends operation, even for an enemy. 
 Hun though he was, he was still a hero 
 of the air, and chivalry prompted a de- 
 cent burial on the banks of the beautiful 
 Meurthe. The wrecked plane furnished 
 souvenirs for the many who saw it fall. 
 
 Hand Grenades 
 The hand grenade is a mighty dan- 
 86 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 gerous weapon, but also a most effective 
 one when wisely used. 
 
 At Merviller I was delivering a load 
 of supplies to the Y, M. C. A. hut. A 
 quarter of a mile to my right a deaf- 
 ening explosion was accompanied by 
 a mass of debris thrown high in the air. 
 "A German bomb!" was the' first 
 thought. And we waited expectantly 
 to see where the next one would strike. 
 When there was no second, I drove 
 around to investigate. On a side street 
 I found a crowd of soldiers and French 
 civihans already gathering. The Red 
 Cross ambulance had "beat me to it," 
 and the surgeons were already working 
 over the mangled bodies of four Amer- 
 ican soldiers. The street was littered 
 and unexploded hand grenades lay 
 everywhere. Two soldiers had been 
 carrying gunny sacks filled with gre- 
 nades when one accidentally exploded, 
 it in turn exploding others imtil the 
 wreckage was complete. A military in- 
 vestigation would report the cause of 
 37 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 the accident and the damage wrought, 
 and thus an incident of war would 
 quickly become history. 
 
 Through a German Barrage 
 
 On my last Sunday with the flivver I 
 drove with Secretary Armstrong to our 
 hut at Pettonville. In the forenoon we 
 helped Secretary Reisner in the canteen. 
 Then we closed, ate a lunch, and, loaded 
 down with cakes, raisins, cigarettes, and 
 tobacco, started for the trenches. As we 
 neared the front line the Germans be- 
 gan shelling the woods toward which 
 we were headed. While we did some 
 lightning calculating, we never slack- 
 ened our pace but went through to the 
 battalion headquarters. There a sniper 
 volunteered as guide to the trenches. 
 We passed several company head- 
 quarters and gave out our supplies to 
 the men as they stood in the line with 
 their mess kits. 
 
 When we left the first-line trenches 
 we walked or crouched through woods, 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 where the bark of the trees toward the 
 enemy was riddled and broken by bul- 
 lets, shrapnel, and shell; then through 
 trenches which had been abandoned but 
 which ran far out into No Man's Land 
 and furnished splendid avenues to our 
 Petty Posts. No. 4 was the first, and 
 was so exposed that only one man at a 
 time was permitted with the guide. 
 Secretary Armstrong went first. While 
 we were examining the graves of Ger- 
 man aviators who had been killed when 
 their planes crashed to earth, a rifle 
 bullet whistled over our heads. We had 
 been seen by a German sniper, so we 
 quickly crouched low behind the trench 
 wall. I found myself right over the 
 grave of one of the Germans, and was 
 rewarded by finding on it a piece of 
 German shell, grim paradox of the for- 
 tunes of war. 
 
 We continued through the trenches to 
 
 P. P. No. 5. This was our nearest point 
 
 in this sector to the enemy front line. 
 
 It was difficult to get through because of 
 
 39 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 the mud and water in the trench. In 
 some places, because of exposure to the 
 enemy guns, we had to crawl on oin* 
 hands and knees. At the post were 
 eight men, two at the observation post 
 and the rest in a dugout nearby. The 
 men at the P. P.'s are on guard forty- 
 eight hours, and off twenty-four hours. 
 After ten days they are relieved and go 
 back for ten days' rest. 
 
 This special post was raided four 
 times during that week. One report 
 said three hundred Germans came over 
 but the men at the post said about sixty. 
 One attack was a surprise and they got 
 four of our men. The other times the 
 Germans were routed with varying 
 losses. The P. P.'s are only observation 
 posts and are not intended to be held in 
 case of raid, but usually our boys were 
 eager to give Fritz all that was coming 
 to him, and they seldom failed no matter 
 how largely outnumbered. 
 
 There were no signs of fear among 
 our splendid fellows, and while it re- 
 40 
 
FIVE WEEKS IN A FLIVVER 
 
 quired courage to be a mile or more be- 
 yond the supporting line, lying out in 
 No Man's Land, yet the very danger 
 and the adventure of it made a mighty 
 appeal to the full-blooded Yank, and 
 there was never a lack of volunteers. 
 
 41 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ON THE MOVE 
 
 "/^ VER THERE" excitement was 
 ^<^ the normal condition, and the 
 real soldier was never satisfied unless he 
 was in the thick of the fight. Even 
 "holding the line" on the Alsatian 
 border was tame, and the news of Cha- 
 teau-Thierry made the Ohio boys 
 "green with envy." Their more fortu- 
 nate guard comrades of the 26th and 
 42nd Divisions had covered themselves 
 with glory. Where would the next 
 American blow be struck? 
 
 "Anything doing up at the front?" 
 was the first question shot at every dis- 
 patch rider or truck driver who came 
 "along the pike" from the north. "The 
 
 whole d country is full of Yanks!" 
 
 "Ten divisions packed in between Toul 
 
 and Nancy." "Never saw so much am- 
 
 42 
 
ON THE MOVE 
 
 munition in my life." "Couldn't get 
 through for the traffic/' Such reports 
 kept the boys of the 37th on tiptoe of 
 expectation. Would they get a chance 
 for the "big push"? 
 
 Imagine, therefore, the peculiar thrill 
 of every man when about September 11, 
 it was announced officially that the di- 
 vision was to be ready for an immediate 
 move. The boys were to be "stripped" 
 for action. Every unnecessary thing 
 was thrown into the salvage pile. Mil- 
 itary trains were placed on the sidings 
 in the railway yards at Baccarat to be 
 loaded with men, horses, and equipment. 
 These trains to move oS on schedule 
 time, about two hours apart, imtil the 
 last had taken its departure. 
 
 For two nights steady streams of 
 French troops, ammunition wagons, 
 guns, and army trucks had poured into 
 Baccarat on their way to relieve the 
 various units of the Ohio Division. 
 Four horses, two abreast, would be 
 hitched to an artillery wagon on which 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 was mounted a camouflaged '75 (three- 
 inch gun ) . The heavy guns were drawn 
 by six or eight horses, two abreast, with 
 a rider for every two horses. 
 
 The Y. M. C. A. headquarters were 
 on the corner where the two main 
 streets of the town crossed. One night 
 about ten o'clock we stood on the curb 
 watching two lines of men and wagons, 
 one from the south and one from the 
 west, as they came together at this 
 corner and flowed on through the town. 
 It was a fascinating and weird night 
 scene. Suddenly we heard a Boche 
 plane. When it passed overhead it 
 dropped a star shell which lighted up 
 that whole section of the town and re- 
 vealed the long lines of French infantry 
 and artillery. The burned out shell 
 dropped just across the street from us. 
 Evidently, German spies had given 
 notice of the movements of troops and 
 scouting planes had come over to get 
 information and take pictures. These 
 were closely followed by bombing planes 
 
ON THE MOVE 
 
 which tried to destroy the bridge over 
 the Meurthe and thus hinder the move- 
 ment of troops, but their bombs went 
 wide of their mark and our anti-aircraft 
 guns made it so hot for them that they 
 could not get near enough to do any ma- 
 terial damage. 
 
 Many Chinese troops in French uni- 
 forms passed through Baccarat the next 
 day. With military precision our boys, 
 relieved by these French and Chinese 
 troops, poured into the town and were 
 quickly loaded on the troop trains. 
 
 Three days before the move a secret 
 order had come to the chief of our "Y" 
 division to be ready to move with the 
 troops. Immediately all our secretaries 
 were notified to close their huts and pre- 
 pare their stock for removal. "Y" 
 trucks were dispatched to bring the 
 secretaries and all stock on hand in to 
 the central warehouse. Where the hut 
 was a tent — and four of the seventeen 
 hiits were canvas — our expert, who had 
 traveled for years with Barnum & 
 4)5 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 Bailey, went with the trucks and 
 brought in tent and all. 
 
 The army, desiring to have the "Y" 
 suppUes and men at the front with the 
 boys, put one or two ears on each train 
 at our disposal. For twenty-four hours 
 without let up the "Y" trucks, manned 
 by a score or more of secretaries, rushed 
 boxes of chocolate, cakes, raisins, cocoa, 
 cigarettes, tobacco, matches, and other 
 supphes essential to the comfort of the 
 boys, from the warehouse to the trains. 
 
 It was an exciting game to have each 
 car loaded when the signal to move was 
 given. Sometimes it was a close shave, 
 as, for instance, when our car on one 
 train having been loaded we were of- 
 fered a second car which was accepted. 
 We worked feverishly to get it ready 
 for the move. It was half filled — only 
 ten minutes remained before the train 
 was to leave. Our big French truck was 
 being loaded at the warehouse as fast as 
 willing hands could throw the boxes on. 
 Word was dispatched to rush the truck 
 46 
 
ON THE MOVE 
 
 to the train — ^it arrived in three min- 
 utes. The train was being shifted ready 
 for the move. Our expert driver (a rac- 
 ing pilot in the States) was game, and 
 followed the train, stopping where it 
 stopped, while the boxes fairly flew 
 from truck to car. 
 
 Finally the French train officials or- 
 dered our truck away that the train 
 might pull out. Our manager said, "Un 
 minute, s'il vous plait," while the boxes 
 continued to fly. The Frenchmen, be- 
 coming excited, waved their arms and 
 cursed and threatened in their own 
 tongue. What we could not understand 
 did not frighten us, and the merry chase 
 continued until, in spite of our inter- 
 ference, the train began to move, and 
 with a few parting shots at the still open 
 door, our men in the car placed them as 
 best they could, closed the door and 
 swung from the moving train. 
 
 It was great sport, and to hear the 
 cheers of approval from our boys, for 
 whom all this energy was being ex- 
 47 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 pended, was ample reward for our 
 fatigue and loss of sleep. 
 
 The movement of troop trains was al- 
 ways a special target for Boche bomb- 
 ing planes, and several times during the 
 night Fritz tried to "get" us. Each 
 time, however, he was successfully- 
 driven off by our anti-aircraft and 
 machine guns. Whenever we heard the 
 planes overhead and shrapnel began to 
 burst around us, we would scurry to 
 cover underneath the cars, which gave 
 us protection from the falling pieces of 
 shrapnel and the machine-gun bullets. 
 
 Troop trains had a never waning in- 
 terest for civilian and soldier alike. The 
 French freight cars are about half the 
 size of our American cars. The box 
 cars were filled with horses and men. 
 The horses were led up a gangplank to 
 the door in the center of the car and 
 backed toward each end of the car with 
 their heads facing each other. Four 
 horses abreast, making eight in the car, 
 completely filled it, leaving only a four- 
 48 
 
GERMAN AERIAL BOMB 
 (Large) 
 
ON THE MOVE 
 
 foot alleyway between them, where the 
 men in charge of the horses made them- 
 selves as comfortable as circmnstances 
 permitted. Sometimes the men were 
 crowded so tight into the cars that they 
 could neither sit nor lie down. Usually, 
 however, they had more room, and in 
 every open doorway they sat with their 
 feet hanging outside. A jollier bunch 
 of fellows never donned uniform. 
 
 The flat-cars were loaded with gun 
 carriages, ammunition wagons, and field 
 kitchens. On one car of every train 
 were three mounted machine guns with 
 their crews, in readiness for any dar- 
 ing Boche plane that might swoop down 
 on them. Most of the trains that trav- 
 eled by day were camouflaged with 
 branches of green leaves broken from 
 trees or bushes. 
 
 When the last train had departed at 
 three o'clock in the morning, we had a 
 jollification banquet of canned fruit and 
 fish with bread and coffee, first having 
 gone in noisy procession through all 
 49 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 the sleeping quarters and routed out all 
 who were snatching a 'Vink of sleep." 
 On the day previous Armstrong went 
 ahead with two of our canteen workers, 
 O'Connor and Baldwin, and a camion- 
 ette load of supplies and cocoa and set 
 up a temporary canteen, ready to wel- 
 come the troops when they arrived at 
 Ravigny. Dr. Anderson in the Ford 
 Sedan also went ahead to choose suit- 
 able headquarters and a warehouse in 
 which to store our fifteen carloads of 
 supplies. 
 
 A "Y" Motor Convoy 
 
 At eleven in the forenoon, after 
 spending the morning packing and 
 loading, our convoy started. All driv- 
 ers knew the route to Ravigny, to which 
 point all troop trains had been dis- 
 patched under sealed orders. First in 
 line were our pilots in an Indian motor- 
 cycle and sidecar. They carried our 
 official passes which they presented to 
 each guard en route. Then after all had 
 50 
 
ON THE MOVE 
 
 passed they proceeded to the next 
 guard. Second in hne was a Ford 
 touring car with our chief of transpor- 
 tation and other officials. Next came a 
 camionette loaded with food supplies 
 and cooking equipment, and after it the 
 Renault truck (the writer driving) 
 loaded with office supplies, cash boxes, 
 and personal baggage. Last of all was 
 a big three-ton truck with a miscella- 
 neous load and trailing a small truck 
 loaded with garage tools. This was our 
 traveling repair shop in charge of our 
 mechanician. The rest of the staff with 
 their personal baggage went by train. 
 
 Ravigny is a small town but an im- 
 portant railroad center from which 
 troop trains were re-routed to various 
 points on the front line. Our division 
 was ordered to proceed to Riccicourt, 
 a deserted and partly destroyed village 
 about twelve miles west of Verdun and 
 about five miles south of Avoncourt, 
 where our boys went "over the top." 
 The women canteen workers, much to 
 51 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 their disappointment, were ordered by 
 the colonel to remain at Ravigny, where 
 they could get accommodations and be 
 saved the danger and distress of the 
 battlefield. 
 
 At Riccicourt officers and men were 
 billeted in every building that afforded 
 any protection from wind or rain. The 
 mass of troops, however, were on the 
 move and bivouacked or quickly set up 
 their dog-tents, wherever the order 
 to "fall out" was given. Every road 
 leading to Avoncourt was filled with 
 the motor transportation of many divi- 
 sions. Heavy rains at times made the 
 roads impassable, but in some way 
 traffic was maintained. 
 
 The Y. M. C. A. workers with the 
 37th Division were the first on the field. 
 They were the farthest advanced; they 
 had the largest stock of supplies and the 
 most workers of any organization in 
 that sector at the beginning of the drive. 
 From this center a supply station was 
 established at Avoncourt, where hot 
 52 
 
ON THE MOVE 
 
 chocolate was served day and night to 
 the men as they were going to and from 
 the hne of battle. Hot chocolate and 
 supplies in large quantities were also 
 furnished free to the field-hospitals. 
 
 All secretaries who could possibly be 
 spared were dispatched with packs on 
 their backs, bulging with chocolate and 
 tobacco for the men actually on the fir- 
 ing hne. As these secretaries trudged 
 past the long lines of soldiers waiting to 
 "go into action" they would be greeted 
 with a chorus of "Three cheers for the 
 ^Y' "—"You can't lose the Y Men," etc. 
 
 When in answer to the requests, 
 "Can't you sell us a cake of chocolate or 
 a pack of Camels?" it was explained, 
 "We can't carry enough for all, and 
 these are for the wounded and the men 
 on the firing line," there came invariably 
 the enthusiastic reply, "That's right — 
 they need it more than we do." 
 
 63 
 
CHAPTER III 
 OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 TWENTY years to make a soldier 1 
 Well, that depends upon the kind 
 of a soldier you want. There were two 
 kinds in the Argonne Forest from the 
 latter part of September to November 
 in that last year of the great war. 
 
 Four long dreadful years the Forest 
 had been the impregnable stronghold of 
 the Kaiser's minions. The last word in 
 the perfection of trench warfare had 
 been spoken by them. The most elab- 
 orate preparations for the housing of 
 their men and officers had been made; 
 dugouts of every description, from the 
 temporary "hole in the ground" with a 
 wooden door and a "cootie" bunk to the 
 palatial suite sixty feet underground 
 with cement stairs and floors, and with 
 bathrooms, officers and lounging quar- 
 54j 
 
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 SMTIA 
 
 BOY J 
 
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 ^ 
 
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 Cf 3 49 ff£-r. 
 
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 ^ 
 
 £1 G£ 0^/=p^£Sr 
 
 wooieo Hfii'.& 
 
 ffND \f/ILL£Y,S 
 
 Trees Jff/l7T£fi,£i> 
 
 i^/tGO/^^£ 
 
 SYJ^^/fVY i'iAR^/fe 
 
 FaJ?^ST 
 
 T»7* 
 
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 oy£4> T-fffM *of> nr 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 ters, all electrically lighted and well 
 heated. 
 
 Machine gun nests had been planted 
 in every conceivable point of vantage 
 from a camouflaged bush on the hillside 
 to the concealed 'lookout" in the tallest 
 treetop. Cannon of every caHber had 
 been placed throughout the woods and 
 under the lea of each protecting hill or 
 chff . A system of narrow-gauge rail- 
 roads sent its spurs into every part of 
 the Forest, delivering ammunition to 
 the guns and supplies to the men, even 
 connecting by tunnel with some of the 
 largest dugouts. 
 
 The Boche had not held this strong- 
 hold undisturbed. The traditions of the 
 battlefield, passed from lip to lip, told 
 of numerous and costly offensives by 
 the French and English, but always the 
 same story of failure to take or hold the 
 Forest. 
 
 When the American offensive was 
 ready to be launched the French were 
 eager to gamble, first, that our dough- 
 56 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 boys could not take the "untakable," 
 and second, that if by any miraculous 
 procedure they succeeded in breaking 
 the German line, they could not hold 
 what they had taken. This did not 
 mean that they doubted the courage or 
 the ability of our men, but that they did 
 have knowledge of the impregnable 
 nature of the German stronghold. 
 
 On that eventful morning near the 
 end of September, the rainy season hav- 
 ing started and the mud of the Argonne 
 vying with the mud of Flanders, our 
 guns began to cough and roar. For 
 three terrific hours they spoke the lan- 
 guage of the bottomless pit and caused 
 the very foundations of the earth itself 
 to quiver. Germans taken prisoner by 
 our men afterward acknowledged that 
 they had never heard anything so ter- 
 rifying in their lives. 
 
 Having sent over their letter of in- 
 troduction, our boys followed in person 
 with a shout and a dash. Over the top 
 and through the wire entanglements of 
 56 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 No Man's Land they fairly leaped their 
 way. Hundreds of tons of barbed wire 
 had been woven and interwoven between 
 posts driven into the ground. These 
 posts were in rows and usually stood 
 about three feet out of the ground. The 
 rows were four feet apart. 
 
 Then through the trenches of the 
 German front hne they swept, and out 
 across the open country which lay be- 
 tween them and the Forest. The marks 
 of the four years' conflict were every- 
 where visible: the blackened and splin- 
 tered remains of trees, the grass-covered 
 shell-holes, the ruined towns and the 
 wooden crosses, silent markers of the 
 tombs of the dead. Besides these were 
 the fresh holes in the fields and on the 
 hillside where our guns had literally 
 blasted the whole face of the ground. 
 
 The shell-holes ranged from the 
 washtub size made by the 75's to the 
 great fissure-torn holes made by the big 
 naval guns, and which would make an 
 ample cellar for an ordinary dwelling 
 57 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 house. I have seen horses which had 
 fallen into these great holes shot and 
 covered over because they could not be 
 gotten out without a derrick. 
 
 In the Forest proper our boys en- 
 countered machine-gun nests, artillery 
 pieces of every caliber, and the Boche 
 with whom the woods were infested. 
 Besides the opposition of an active 
 enemy, were the natural barriers of 
 deep ravines, stony ridges and cUffs, 
 and in many places an almost impas- 
 sable barrier of dense underbrush and 
 fallen limbs and trees. 
 
 Through all of this, however, our 
 boys pushed that first great day, ignor- 
 ing every danger which they were not 
 compelled to conquer in their rapid ad- 
 vance. When they emerged from the 
 Forest they swept down the hillside, 
 through the gas-filled valley, and 
 stormed the ridges beyond. On the 
 crest of one of these ridges was Mont- 
 faucon, a strongly fortified position, 
 said to have been one of the observation 
 58 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 towers of the Crown Prince during the 
 four years of the war. Having sur- 
 rounded and taken this stronghold, they 
 swept on through the next valley and 
 having reached their objective ahead of 
 schedule, dug themselves in while the 
 fire of German guns pierced and de- 
 pleted their ranks. 
 
 Whatever military critics may say, 
 our hearts thrill with pride for these 
 heroes, who being given an objective 
 took it with an impetuosity which 
 caused them to even outrun their own 
 barrage. And having taken it, to hold 
 on for days at whatever cost until the 
 heavy artillery could be brought up to 
 support their line and make a new gain 
 possible. 
 
 When the first surprise shock was 
 over and the enemy reaKzed that the 
 Americans were really taking their im- 
 pregnable fortifications, and opening 
 the door for the defeat and botthng up 
 of the whole German army, their resist- 
 ance stiffened to desperation, and our 
 59 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 boys had to literally hew their way to 
 victory. 
 
 In reciting my experiences with the 
 37th Ohio N. G., Major General C. S. 
 Farnsworth, commanding, I am but 
 echoing those of every other division en- 
 gaged in that wonderful Argonne 
 battle. 
 
 The tragedies of the Argonne will 
 never be fully written or told. Men 
 who have witnessed the butcheries of 
 war are liable to be silent about the 
 worst they have seen. It is the unspeak- 
 able. 
 
 "Sergeant O'Connor!" 
 
 "Here, sir," coming to salute with a 
 snap. 
 
 "There is a machine-gun nest in the 
 top of a big tree a mile from here on the 
 left of the road leading over the hill. 
 Silence it." 
 
 "Yes, sir!" again coming to salute 
 and turning to carry out the order of his 
 captain. He knew the danger, but ex- 
 ecuted the order. 
 
 60 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 When this tree was pointed out to us 
 we understood how difficult had been 
 the task. The hmbs had been shot off, 
 but the great trunk was unhurt. About 
 forty feet from the ground the hmbs 
 branched and there a nest had been built 
 for the machine gun, which commanded 
 the forest trail and the surrounding 
 country. 
 
 On the morning of the third day of 
 the "big push" jfive "Y" men started 
 with heavy packs of supphes to find our 
 brave lads of the 37th who were some- 
 where in the Une. We were given as 
 guides two privates who were returning 
 to the front for more prisoners. They 
 had brought in many prisoners that 
 morning. I was interested and drew 
 one of them into conversation. 
 
 "How many prisoners did you have?" 
 
 "A bunch of fifty. We captured so 
 many that first day it was hard to get 
 them all back quickly to the retention 
 camps." 
 
 "I suppose they were all disarmed." 
 61 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 "O yes, all weapons were taken from 
 them and they were searched for secret 
 messages or information which would 
 be valuable to our army," 
 
 "Were they allowed to keep any of 
 their belongings?" 
 
 "Only the clothes they wore and their 
 caps. Sometimes they would also keep 
 their gas masks and canteens." 
 
 We were on a forest trail. The mud 
 from recent rains covered our leggings 
 and our heavy hobnail shoes. We came 
 to a crossroads in the heart of the For- 
 est. Our wounded on stretchers were 
 everywhere. I can see now the ban- 
 daged eyes of the gassed patients, the 
 armless sleeve or the bared breast with 
 the bloody dressings. I can see the 
 silent forms of those who would never 
 fight again. 
 
 But my heart thrills as the white arm- 
 band with its red cross comes out sharp 
 and distinct in the picture. Our doctors 
 and surgeons were the miracle-workers 
 of that awful field of slaughter. And 
 62 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 the ambulance men were the angels of 
 mercy to thousands whose hf e blood was 
 wasting fast away. 
 
 The "Y" man with his pack always 
 received a sincere welcome. There was 
 a smile of gratitude as a piece of choco- 
 late was placed in the mouth of one 
 whose hands were useless, or a cigarette 
 and a light given to another whose whole 
 frame was aquiver from the shock of 
 battle. There were the eager requests 
 of the Red-Cross men for extra sup- 
 plies for the boys whom they would see 
 when Mr. Y-Man was not with them. 
 
 ''A dead Hun is the only good Hun" 
 — ^this was a war definition, and true at 
 least while the battle was on. Every- 
 where through the Forest were Boche 
 made "good" by American bullets. 
 Near a dead German officer was a 
 group of our boys looking over the 
 ''treasures" which his pockets held. 
 There was also a photo of a French 
 oflScer. Evidently, the Hun had earlier 
 in the war killed the Frenchman and 
 63 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 taken his picture for a souvenir. Was it 
 poetic justice that the Hun should fall 
 victim to a Yank bullet, and that the 
 photo of his captive, together with his 
 own, should be taken by his American 
 slayer and given as souvenirs to a Y. M. 
 C. A. secretary? 
 
 I was one of a score of "Y" men who 
 followed Farnsworth's division into ac- 
 tion, establishing hot chocolate stations 
 and carrying on our backs great packs 
 of chocolate, cigarettes, and tobacco 
 which we gave away to the boys on the 
 battlefield. There we met the wounded 
 who, having received first aid, were be- 
 ing carried on stretchers back to the 
 field dressing stations, where the army 
 surgeons were working feverishly under 
 trees or in protected valleys. From 
 here continuous lines of stretcher- 
 bearers with their precious burdens 
 moved back to the field hospitals. 
 
 On the edge of the Forest near Mont- 
 f aucon and about three miles back of the 
 line was the nearest field hospital in an 
 64 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 elaborate system of German dugouts. 
 The location was well concealed on a hill 
 thickly covered by forest trees and a 
 dense tangle of underbrush. Much time 
 had been spent by the Boche soldiers in 
 making it not only secure but attractive. 
 Rustic fences protected the wooden 
 walks leading to the main entrance. A 
 maze of paths as in a garden, connected 
 the various entrances (doorways). 
 Long flights of wooden steps led down 
 fifteen, twenty, and even thirty feet 
 underground. The deepest cave was 
 connected by a tunnel with the railway 
 system that had branches everywhere 
 through the Forest. 
 
 When we found the head surgeon we 
 told him we had chocolate for his pa- 
 tients. He took us to one of the wards 
 where thirty men were crowded into 
 four small rooms. The odor of death 
 was in the air. The labored breathing 
 of unconscious men cast a gloom that 
 was hard to shake off. 
 
 "How do you stay here and keep 
 65 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 sane?" I asked the doctor in charge. 
 For five days and nights he had scarcely 
 slept, and all he had to eat was what he 
 prepared for himself on a little stove in 
 the six-by-ten room that served for office 
 and living quarters of himself and his 
 assistant. "The boys are wonderful," 
 he said, "and one forgets himself in try- 
 ing to save them." 
 
 As we went from cot to cot with a 
 piece of chocolate for each, gripping the 
 hands of some and looking into the eyes 
 of others too far gone even to speak, we 
 knew he had spoken the truth. No com- 
 plaint escaped their lips. The light of a 
 great new dawn kindled in the eyes of 
 many, and their smile of gratitude for 
 the kindness done them made the small 
 service rendered a sacrament sacred on 
 the field of battle. 
 
 Returning one evening after a won- 
 derful but terrible day with the boys on 
 the front, we worked our way along a 
 ridge where our 75 's were belching fire 
 into the ranks of the enemy. We were 
 66 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 giving out the last of our supplies to the 
 crews who were manning these guns. 
 I stopped to speak to an infantry major 
 who was directing the movements of his 
 men by telephone and messenger from a 
 former German dugout where he had 
 taken up temporary headquarters. 
 When I came up he was standing by a 
 gun looking out over the battlefield and 
 watching the stretcher bearers return- 
 ing from the "hne." He had tried in 
 vain to get more artillery sent forward 
 to support his men who were being 
 mowed down by the merciless fire from 
 the Boche machine guns and cannon. 
 At first his voice choked with emotion, 
 and then revenge took possession of him 
 as he cursed the Hun for bringing upon 
 the world such slaughter. It seemed as 
 if his great heart would burst as he real- 
 ized the suffering and the sacrifice of 
 his hoys whom he had ordered to hold 
 at any cost. His voice choked as he 
 cried, "My God, but they are punishing 
 my boys.'^ 
 
 67 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 As we walked on in a driving rain- 
 storm and through mud and underbrush 
 and wormed our way amid wire en- 
 tanglements, we came upon a field 
 kitchen and were invited to supper. We 
 gladly accepted and sat down in the rain 
 to potatoes and meat, bread, butter, and 
 coffee, with a dessert of pancakes and 
 syrup. It was a meal fit for a king, and 
 no food ever tasted quite so sweet. It 
 was about fifteen miles to our hut, and 
 darkness had overtaken us. While we 
 were eating, an empty ammunition cart 
 drawn by four horses came along, and 
 the sergeant in charge offered us a ride. 
 The offer was gladly accepted because 
 we had no guide, and for two hours we 
 bumped over the rough forest trail. 
 
 On the way we overtook many of our 
 wounded, who after receiving first aid 
 had attempted to walk back to the 
 camps in the rear. Wherever we found 
 them we gave them a hft to the nearest 
 rest camp or ambulance station. Some 
 whom we were privileged to help seemed 
 68 
 
OUR INVINCIBLES 
 
 completely exhausted and unable to 
 drag any farther. 
 
 When at last the forest trail opened 
 into the highway the going was faster. 
 When within three miles of Avoncourt 
 we were stopped by a tieup in traffic. 
 After a few minutes' wait, seeing that 
 there was no sign of advancing, we de- 
 cided to walk on. For two solid miles 
 the road was blocked, the rains having 
 made the roads almost impassable. We 
 worked our way in and out past am- 
 munition wagons. Red Cross ambu- 
 lances, officers' cars, and army trucks. 
 Just before midnight we reached our 
 huts at Avoncourt, where hot chocolate 
 was being served to never-ending lines 
 of tin-helmeted, khaki-clad wearers of 
 the gas mask. 
 
 Through this town, now leveled to the 
 ground by four years of intermittent 
 bombardment, we groped our way to a 
 temporary "Y" supply hut, where we 
 hoped to spend the night. Upon open- 
 ing the door we discovered that every 
 69 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 available foot of space on the bare 
 ground floor was occupied by "Y" men 
 rolled up in their blankets. They were 
 so exhausted from their long hikes to 
 the front, or their continuous serving at 
 the chocolate canteen, that they could 
 sleep anywhere. We quickly decided to 
 continue our tramp another eight miles 
 to the base headquarters, which we 
 reached at three in the morning 
 drenched and exhausted and literally 
 covered with mud. After three hours of 
 good refreshing sleep we were up again 
 and ready to serve oxu* boys — ^the in- 
 vincibles. 
 
 70 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 HOLDING THE LINE 
 
 "/^ N to Berlin," was the cry of the 
 V^ whole Yank army. And the 
 boys were impatient of every delay that 
 kept them from their goal. They all 
 felt hke the colored private from Ala- 
 bama who was asked to join a French 
 class: "No, I don' want to study 
 French. I w^ant to study German." 
 
 After the hisses had died down some 
 one asked, "Why is it you want to study 
 German rather than French?" 
 
 "I'se goin' to Berlin." 
 
 Then the hisses gave way to cheers. 
 
 It was that same spirit which caused 
 Corporal Cole, of the Marines, to say: 
 "The marines do not know such a word 
 as 'retreat.' " That was the spirit which 
 brought the curt reply from Col. Whit* 
 71 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 tlesey when the Huns asked his "Lost 
 Battahon" to surrender. 
 
 The American army was a victorious 
 army. It had never been defeated. It 
 had faith in its ideals. Those ideals 
 were neither selfish nor arrogant. It 
 wore no boastful "Gott mit uns" on its 
 belt. It desired only the opportunity of 
 striking low that nation which dared to 
 dictate terms to the Almighty as well 
 as to men. It braved three thousand 
 miles of submarine peril to meet such an 
 enemy. 
 
 Even an invincible army has to 
 breathe and eat and sleep. They can 
 hold their breath long enough to adjust 
 a gas mask, but the mask tells us that 
 even in gas they must be enabled to 
 breathe. In the heat of the chase when 
 the Hun is the hare, they can forget for 
 a time that they are hungry, but the field 
 kitchen testifies to the fact that hunger 
 undermines courage and that an efficient 
 army must be a well-fed army. 
 
 To see men curled up in muddy 
 72 
 
HOLDING THE LINE 
 
 shell-holes with the sky for canopy, 
 peacefully sleeping, while cannon are 
 booming on every side and shells whin- 
 ing overhead, is sufficient evidence that 
 sleep is not a myth invented by the Gods 
 of Rest. 
 
 While the spirit of the boys was will- 
 ing to go right through to Berlin, their 
 flesh asserted its weakness. Their first 
 dash over the top was invincible, and we 
 were told that in ten hours they swept 
 forward to their goal sixty hours ahead 
 of schedule. There they dug in and for 
 four days held the line in the face of a 
 murderous and desperate German fire. 
 
 During those four awful days I saw 
 no sign of "y ^ 1 1 ^ w," but everywhere 
 relentless courage. 
 
 "Hello, Mr. Y-Man, don't you want 
 to see a fellow that has three holes 
 through him and still going strong?" 
 
 "You don't really mean it, do you? 
 
 Show him to me. I want to look into 
 
 the eyes of such a man." They led me 
 
 over to a bunch of soldiers who had just 
 
 73 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 come out of the line and there in the 
 center of an admiring crowd was my 
 man, happy as a lark. His three 
 wounds — one in the left breast, one in 
 the thigh, and a scalp wound — had been 
 dressed, and while these wounds had 
 glorified him in the eyes of his com- 
 rades, he was ready to forget them. 
 
 Even though a hundred shells explod- 
 ing near by miss you, and you become 
 convinced that Fritz does not really 
 have your name and address, yet each 
 explosion registers its shock on the 
 nerve centers. If this be long-continued, 
 the nerves give way and you find your- 
 self a shell-shock patient, tagged and on 
 your way to one of the quiet back areas 
 where you can forget the war and get a 
 grip upon yourself again. 
 
 Holding the line in open warfare 
 costs a heavy toll in human life, but 
 here again our boys showed their in- 
 vincible spirit. Not once did I see a 
 Yankee that showed any eagerness to 
 get away from the line. The mortally 
 74 
 
HOLDING THE LINE 
 
 wounded accepted the sacrifice they had 
 been called upon to make without be- 
 moaning fate, and remained cheerful to 
 the end. Of course when a man was 
 ''facing Wesf he longed for the loved 
 faces and the heaven of home. We who 
 had our own '^little heaven" back in the 
 homeland knew and instinctively read 
 those sacred thoughts and prayers and 
 gave just the hand-pressure of deep 
 sympathy. 
 
 To have spoken of home at such a 
 time would have been to tear the heart 
 already breaking, with a deep anguish 
 that would interfere with their possibil- 
 ity of recovery. So the cheery word of 
 hope and faith was given, and any final 
 message quietly taken and faithfully 
 and sacredly fulfilled. 
 
 The wounded men whom we met 
 coming out of the line who were not 
 ''facing West" were with one accord 
 hopeful of speedy recovery, not that 
 they might "save their own skin" and 
 get back home ahve, but that they might 
 75 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 get back into the fight and help to put 
 forever out of commission that devihsh 
 mihtary machine that had threatened 
 the democratic freedom of the world. 
 
 Then again there were the boys who 
 had miraculously escaped being 
 wounded, and after days in the very 
 bowels of hell, which no pen can picture 
 and no tongue recite, had been released 
 from the line and were working their 
 way back to the food kitchens, the water 
 carts, and the rest of the camps. One 
 such doughboy, I met near Montf aucon, 
 about midway between the front line 
 and an artillery ridge where our 75's 
 were coughing shells in rapid succession 
 upon the entrenched foe. His water 
 canteen had long been empty and the 
 nourishment of his hard tack and "corn 
 wilKe"^ forgotten. His lips were 
 parched with thirst and bleeding from 
 cracks, the result of long-continued gun 
 fire. His body was wearied by the 
 
 ^ ** Corn willie ** was corned beef carried in small tin 
 cans and eaten cold when on the march. 
 
 76 
 
HOLDING THE LINE 
 
 heavy strain, his cheeks were gaunt from 
 hunger and his eyes circled for want of 
 rest. His whole bearing was of one who 
 had passed through suffering untold, 
 and yet there was no word of bitterness 
 or complaint. His gratitude for a sup 
 of water from my canteen was richer to 
 me than the plaudits of multitudes, and 
 the fine courage with which he worked 
 his painful way back to rest and refresh- 
 ment caused my heart to yearn after 
 him with a tenderness which he can 
 never know. 
 
 Where a division is merely holding 
 the line, there being no aggressive action 
 on either side, except night-raiding 
 parties, men can stand it for a longer 
 period. Under such circumstances a 
 company would stay in the front line for 
 ten days, part being on guard while the 
 others were sleeping. At the end of the 
 ten days they would be relieved by a 
 fresh company and return to a rest 
 camp in the rear. The boys hardly con- 
 sidered it rest, as there was constant 
 77 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 drilling, besides camp duties and activ- 
 ities of many kinds. 
 
 Out in No Man's Land we had our 
 ^'listening" and "observation" posts. 
 These posts are set as near the enemy- 
 line as possible. It is very hazardous 
 work, and requires steady nerves and 
 clear heads. Each squad in a post re- 
 mains for forty-eight hours, and each 
 man of the squad is on actual guard for 
 four hours at a time. 
 
 Where men are on the line in aggres- 
 sive warfare, the action is so intense that 
 they cannot stand up under long-con- 
 tinued fighting. In the Argonne fight 
 our Ohio division was on the front line 
 for five days after going "over the top." 
 Then they were relieved by a fresh divi- 
 sion, which took their places under cover 
 of the night. 
 
 As our boys came out I stood all night 
 with another "Y" man on a German 
 narrow-gauge railroad crossing, giving 
 a smoke or a piece of chocolate to each 
 man as he passed. The enthusiastic 
 78 
 
HOLDING THE LINE 
 
 expressions of the great majority bore 
 ample testimony to their keen apprecia- 
 tion. "You're a hfe-saver," is the way 
 they put it. 
 
 Now let me give you a glimpse of the 
 fine courage and noble manhood of the 
 boys who were actually facing the foe in 
 the front line. I have been with them in 
 many positions and under varied cir- 
 cumstances even up to within three hun- 
 dred yards of the Boche hne. First a 
 great word— ^ Yank never feared his 
 enemy. 
 
 The most horrible stories of Hunnish 
 brutality and barbarity only served to 
 intensify the Yanks' desire to strike that 
 enemy low. One of our splendid fel- 
 lows, a private of the 102nd Infantry, 
 came frequently into our station at 
 Rimaucourt where I was a hut secretary 
 during the first month of my stay in 
 France. I felt instinctively that he had 
 a story which he might tell, although he 
 had the noncommittal way of an oflScer 
 on the Intelligence Staff. Through 
 79 
 
 /^^ 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 several days of quiet fellowship the 
 story came out. 
 
 It was during the time when the 
 Boche were smashing their way toward 
 Paris. It takes more courage to face a 
 foe when he is on the aggressive than 
 when he is being held or driven hack. 
 Our hero's company was meeting an 
 attack. He had previously lost a 
 brother, victim of a Boche bullet. The 
 spirit of vengeance had stealthily en- 
 tered his very soul, and secretly he had 
 vowed to avenge that brother's death 
 with as great a toll of enemy lives as 
 possible, if the opportunity came to him. 
 
 No man ever knows what he will do 
 under fire until the test comes, but be it 
 said to their glory, our boys never failed 
 when the crucial hour came. (They 
 were soldiers not of training but of char- 
 acter.) Quietly, with unflinching cour- 
 age, our boys awaited the onslaught. 
 Finally when the command to fire was 
 given our friend selected his men — ^no 
 random fire for him. One by one he saw 
 80 
 
HOLDING THE LINE 
 
 his victims drop until he had accounted 
 definitely for six. The next man was a 
 towering Prussian Guard. A lightning 
 debate flashed through his mind and 
 stayed momentarily his trigger finger. 
 Was a swift and merciful bullet suffi- 
 cient revenge, or should he wait and give 
 his foe that which he so much feared, the 
 cold steel? The momentary hesitation 
 ended the debate, for the Guard was al- 
 most upon him. Quickly he prepared 
 for the shock, and, parrying the Hun's 
 first thrust, he gave him the upward 
 stroke with the butt of his gun ; but the 
 Hun kept coming, and he quickly 
 brought his gun down — ^his second 
 stroke cutting the head with the blade 
 of his bayonet. The Prussian reeled 
 but was not finished, and as he came 
 again our friend pricked him in the left 
 breast with the point of his bayonet in 
 an over-hand thrust of his rifle. Still he 
 had failed to give his foe a lethal stroke, 
 and as he recoiled for a final encounter 
 he resolved to give him the full benefit 
 81 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 of a body thrust and drove his bayonet 
 home, the blade breaking as the foe 
 crashed to the ground. 
 
 There is a sequel to this story which 
 we must never forget. Whatever may 
 have been the undaunted heroism of 
 our boys when in action, each one of 
 them not only ''had a heart" but also a 
 conscience. And while war, which is 
 worse than Sherman's "hell," suspends 
 for the time the heart appeal and stifles 
 the conscience, the reaction is almost in- 
 variably the same. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 TANKS AND TRACTORS 
 
 THE infantry is the most mobile of 
 any division of the army. Men 
 can go where horses and guns find it 
 impossible. They can file silently 
 through narrow passes or a maze of for- 
 est trees and underbrush. They can 
 scale chffs. They can dodge shell-holes 
 and negotiate muddy roads and mo- 
 rasses. They can move slowly or quickly 
 at will and can therefore take difficult 
 positions where it is impossible quickly 
 to bring up artillery support. 
 
 The Ohio boys were in the line ex- 
 posed to the merciless and cruel ma- 
 chine-gun and artillery fire of the 
 enemy. It was said that the Germans 
 had one machine gun for every two of 
 our rifles. The conflict was desperate. 
 The enemy realized that their cause de- 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 pended upon their practical annihila- 
 tion of the American troops. These 
 fighters, who with such courage and dis- 
 regard of danger had taken this part of 
 the impregnable Hindenburg line, now 
 threatened their supporting lines. It is 
 no disgrace to acknowledge that during 
 those awful initial days of the Argonne 
 drive we paid the price that an army ad- 
 vancing must pay. Of course it was 
 heart-breaking to see the long lines of 
 our stretcher-bearers coming out of that 
 belching brimstone line with the punc- 
 tured and broken bodies of our boys. 
 But it was glorious to know that the 
 line had not wavered. How long could 
 they last? And how speedily could ar- 
 tillery be brought to their aid? These 
 were the momentous questions that 
 quivered on every lip and that gave im- 
 perative urgency to the commands and 
 appeals of the officers who watched with 
 choking emotion the slaughter of "their 
 boys." 
 As we gazed over the valley we saw 
 84 
 
TANKS AND TRACTORS 
 
 to the left a line of slow-crawling tanks. 
 They were about as long as Ford cars 
 and as tall as a man. They were the 
 French *'baby tanks" coming up to help 
 our boys clean out the machine-gun 
 nests. It was perfectly fascinating and 
 almost uncanny to watch tanks in ac- 
 tion. There was no visible sign of life 
 or power, nor any seeming direction to 
 their motion. They crawled stealthily 
 along, bowUng over bushes or small 
 trees or flattening out wire entangle- 
 ments. Steep banks or deep gulleys 
 were taken or crossed with equal ease. 
 As a tank would creep up the side of a 
 ridge it seemed to poise momentarily on 
 the crest, the front part extending out 
 into space until the center of gravity 
 was passed, when the whole tank 
 plunged down headlong. We instinc- 
 tively held our breath until we saw it 
 crawling away on the opposite side. 
 
 The tanks parked behind a hill. We 
 worked our way through the interven- 
 ing valley, up the hill past the tank posi- 
 85 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 tion, and on toward the battle-line, giv- 
 ing out our supplies to all we met or 
 passed. Before we had finished, a 
 Boche plane flew overhead, took a 
 photo of the tank position, and got away 
 to the German lines before our aviators 
 could give chase. We were warned to 
 retreat to a safe position because the 
 German guns would shell this area as 
 soon as the returning scout brought in 
 news of the location of the tanks. Our 
 first concern, however, was the service 
 we might be able to render the boys. 
 Personal safety was a secondary matter, 
 especially since death lurked every- 
 where. So we continued across a shell- 
 torn slope, toward the enemy line, going 
 from shell-hole to shell-hole and giving 
 a word of good cheer, a bit of chocolate, 
 and some smokes to the boys who had 
 taken temporary refuge in these ready- 
 made "dug-ins" (a shallow protection). 
 Having ministered to the wants of 
 our own boys, we felt the brave French 
 pilots and gunners of these tanks were 
 86 
 
TANKS AND TRACTORS 
 
 also deserving and as we approached 
 each tank on our return trip a small iron 
 door in front of the pilot opened, and 
 the courteous appreciation, of which 
 the French are masters, told us that our 
 remembrance of them had been wisely 
 chosen. Fritz was unintentionally good 
 to us and waited until we had finished 
 our task in that sector and retraced our 
 steps across the valley before he began 
 to shell it. By that time the wounded 
 had also been cared for and removed 
 and the tank position changed. For 
 once Heinie's shells were wasted. 
 
 For ten wonderful days my duties 
 took me (on foot, by touring-car, by 
 truck, and by ammunition wagon) from 
 the "rail-head" six miles behind the 
 trenches where our boys went "over the 
 top" on that first historic day of the 
 Argonne drive, up to within a half mile 
 of the day's farthest advance. 
 
 I saw artillery pieces and heavy 
 cannon emplacements everywhere back 
 of the line. I saw these guns after their 
 87 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 first terrific bombardment, imlimbered 
 and moved up to their new positions. 
 The heaviest guns, including the big 
 naval guns, were especially well con- 
 cealed in woods, in orchards, and well 
 camouflaged in fields. So well hidden 
 were they that I passed within a few 
 rods of multitudes of them, as I traveled 
 the roads, without detecting their pres- 
 ence until I would either hear the dis- 
 charge of their shells or see them as they 
 were being unhmbered. To move a 
 heavy gun in mud is no small task. For 
 more than an hour one day I was held 
 up in a truck and watched a dozen ex- 
 perts, with block and tackle and "cater- 
 pillar tractor" move a twelve-inch 
 monster from its hidden foundation up 
 a slight incline toward the roadway. It 
 was an hour well spent, for it gave me 
 an object lesson concerning the diffi- 
 culty with which great field pieces are 
 moved under unfavorable conditions. 
 
 By way of contrast, I watched at an- 
 other time a crew of eight men unlimber 
 88 
 
TANKS AND TRACTORS 
 
 an eight-inch gun and move it about 
 fifteen feet from its foundation beside 
 a raiboad track to a flat car, which could 
 carry it at express speed to some other 
 point of vantage. This told the great 
 value of railroad spurs leading up 
 toward the enemy hues. 
 
 At one place our boys told me of one 
 of our "mysterious" guns, mounted on 
 a specially prepared flat car, which 
 made nightly trips out to different 
 points of vantage for firing on some 
 enemy position, returning again under 
 cover of the darkness to its secret hiding 
 place. 
 
 Having seen the battlefields and be- 
 hind the lines of both the Allied and the 
 German forces; and having noted the 
 military efficiency of the German prep- 
 aration and their care in carrying out 
 even the minutest details; and having 
 observed the skill in preparation and the 
 accuracy in use, especially of the French 
 artillery; and having been thrilled and 
 pleased by the quick and ingenious 
 89 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 adaptation of our American army to the 
 best and most efficient use of every type 
 of weapon, I am thoroughly convinced 
 that an inteUigent army, governed by 
 Christian ideals, is an invincible army, 
 no matter what temporary advantage 
 military preparedness may have given 
 to the enemy. 
 
 90 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 PEN PICTURES 
 
 German Sniper in Crucifix 
 
 AT Chemin des Dames, near Sois- 
 sons, one night about the middle 
 of April, four Americans (one of Ital- 
 ian birth) belonging to the 102d United 
 States Infantry, made up a raiding 
 party. Their objective was a crucifix 
 out in No Man's Land, about four hun- 
 dred yards from their own trench and 
 within two hundred and fifty yards of 
 the German trenches. The crucifix was 
 a monument containing a secret inner 
 chamber reached by a small spiral stair- 
 way. A Boche sniper concealed in this 
 crucifix had taken too large a toll of 
 American soldiers at that point in the 
 line. The four night raiders left the 
 American trench at one o'clock in the 
 91 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 morning. They crawled on their bellies 
 through snow for one hour before reach- 
 ing the sniper's post. Seven yards per 
 minute is a snail's pace, but pretty good 
 time in No Man's Land, where you 
 must remain motionless each time a star- 
 shell hghts up the darkness around you 
 and makes your discovery possible. 
 
 The Itahan won the privilege of en- 
 tering the crucifix to capture the sniper. 
 His weapon must be a silent weapon, for 
 a shot would expose the presence of the 
 whole party. He chose a razor, and 
 when he emerged from the crucifix he 
 brought with him, as proof that he had 
 satisfactorily executed his order, the 
 Hun's rifle, fieldglasses, and identifica- 
 tion card. Needless to say, no further 
 trouble from Boche snipers was expe- 
 rienced at that point. The return trip 
 was made with less caution and they 
 were discovered. When within fifty 
 yards of their own lines a heavy machine 
 gun barrage opened upon them. It 
 then became a race for life, but they 
 9S 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 reached the safety of their own trenches 
 without a scratch. 
 
 German Infernal Machines 
 
 In the German dugouts all through 
 the Argonne Forest and on the battle- 
 fields were found a multitude of death- 
 dealing devices intended to invite the 
 curiosity of the Yankee souvenir hunt- 
 ers. 
 
 In one dugout near the edge of the 
 Forest we found a mysterious-looking 
 box which we let severely alone. I had 
 seen the diagram of a similar box, which 
 had been carefully dissected by a mem- 
 ber of the IntelHgence Squad. This 
 German trap was a finely poKshed box 
 about fourteen inches long by six inches 
 at its widest part, and disguised as a 
 music box. It had polished hinges and 
 lock and an alhgator handle in the 
 center of the top. It had also a mono- 
 gram in one corner. Inside the box 
 were two squash-shaped grenades about 
 nine inches long and filling the whole 
 93 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 center of the box. In the big end of the 
 box was a compartment filled with chad- 
 dite, a yellow powder, eight times as 
 powerful as dynamite. Attached to the 
 grenades were four friction handles so 
 connected with the alligator handle on 
 top as to explode the bombs when the 
 box was lifted. In event of the frictions 
 faihng to work, or the intended victim 
 opening the box some other way there 
 was a two-second fuse inserted in the 
 end of each bomb^ and extending into 
 the chaddite compartment, to be set off 
 by the removal of the lid. 
 
 A hand grenade was used by them 
 which our boys called potato-mashers. 
 The head of the potato-masher was a 
 can made of one-sixteenth-inch brittle 
 steel. The can was about seven inches 
 long by four and one-half inches in 
 diameter. Around the inside of the can 
 was a layer of small steel cogs. Inside 
 these a layer of small steel balls. The 
 next layer was of small ragged-edged 
 scrap steel pieces and the next, poisoned 
 94 
 

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PEN PICTURES 
 
 copper diamonds. The center was filled 
 with chaddite. On one end of the can 
 was a hollow steel handle about eight 
 inches long. A string passing through 
 this handle was attached on the inside to 
 a touch fuse imbedded in the chaddite; 
 the other end of the string was tied to 
 a button on the handle. By pulling the 
 button the fuse was set o&. 
 
 Imagine the destruction wrought by 
 one of these exploding in a company of 
 soldiers. I have seen many of them 
 through the Argonne, but we had been 
 warned of their danger and chose other 
 weapons as souvenirs, 
 
 A Yank Taken Pkisonee 
 
 This story was from the lips of a 
 doughboy whose home was in Philadel- 
 phia. I had piloted Mr. Cross, of the 
 Providence Journal, through the sur- 
 gical wards of Base Hospital No. 18. 
 This was the Johns Hopkins Hospital 
 Unit located at Bazoilles (pronounced 
 Baz-wy). One of the nurses said, 
 95 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 ''Have you seen Tony in Ward N ? He 
 has a wonderful story." 
 
 So we went to Ward N, and in a pri- 
 vate room at the end of the ward found 
 our hero, who was rapidly recovering 
 and anxious to be of further service to 
 the land of his adoption. His right eye 
 was gone, A German bullet was re- 
 sponsible for its loss. Thus wounded 
 and unable to escape he had been sur- 
 rounded and taken prisoner by the 
 Boche who forced him to walk on ahead 
 of them. 
 
 "When I was unable to drag along 
 as fast as they demanded, I was shot at 
 by one of the Huns, the bullet making 
 a flesh wound in my left leg. They then 
 decided to kill me and shot me through 
 the heart, as they supposed. I was left 
 for dead, but the bullet had missed my 
 heart. For six days I lay out in an open 
 field, living but unable to move." 
 
 Then his voice lowered as he told us 
 the awful nauseating story of how he 
 endeavored to quench the unbearable 
 96 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 thirst of those terrible days. At last he 
 was found by our men who had con- 
 quered and driven back the Hun. 
 
 This brave Italian boy had suffered as 
 few are ever permitted to suffer and 
 live, but his fine spirit was still uncon- 
 quered. He was not seeking pity. He 
 told the story because we asked for it. 
 He told it as though it was the merest 
 incident of his life. There was no word 
 of complaint at having suffered the 
 losses which would cripple him for life. 
 
 It is the same old story that all have 
 told who have witnessed the splendid 
 courage of our men. I have seen thou- 
 sands in the hospitals and on the battle- 
 field, many of them literally shot to 
 pieces, and I have yet to hear the first 
 complaint. And only in two or three 
 instances have I heard even a groan 
 escape the lips of a man, unless he was 
 under the influence of ether. 
 
 "Allied Ant Fleets" 
 
 Having watched with keen interest 
 97 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 the rapid growth and development of 
 the AUied air program, I was ready to 
 be properly thrilled by the maneuvers 
 of our American squadrons operating 
 in conjunction with the army in prep- 
 aration for the great Argonne drive. 
 
 I have seen three fleets in the air at 
 one time over Avoncourt after that 
 wonderful offensive had been launched. 
 Part were Liberty bombing planes with 
 their loads of destruction for German 
 miUtary bases. Part were the speedy 
 little "Spads" which were used as scout 
 planes. They were very hght and small 
 and capable of terrific bursts of speed. 
 
 I could appreciate the importance of 
 the bombing planes, for I had once been 
 privileged to help load one of the mon- 
 ster Handley-Page British bombing 
 planes. It weighed seven tons, includ- 
 ing its load of sixteen 100-pound bombs, 
 and was manned by two pilots and a 
 machine gunner. 
 
 I am conscious even yet of the thrills 
 that pricked my spine, as this monster 
 98 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 with nineteen companions spurned the 
 earth in a mad, rushing leap out into 
 space and sailed away into the night to 
 let the inhabitants of German towns 
 know that "frightfulness" was a game 
 at which two could play. 
 
 The Liberty motors were highly 
 praised by our pilots, and I am ready to 
 add my testimony to the steadiness and 
 reliabihty of the "ship" which was under 
 so much discussion and investigation 
 over here. 
 
 On October 10, with Lieutenant Wil- 
 son, of the 163rd Aero Squadron, in a 
 two-seated Liberty I took a "jump" 
 over the Meuse Valley. As we bumped 
 over the ground in our first sudden dash, 
 and then birdhke rose quickly into the 
 air, my sensations were not the hair-rais- 
 ing variety so often described by the 
 thrilled amateur. When we "banked" 
 however, on a sharp turn, I had my first 
 real sensation — I quickly braced my- 
 self lest I fall overboard. At thirty-five 
 hundred feet the fields looked like 
 99 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 green-and-brown patches, the forests 
 like low bushes, and the railroads, high- 
 ways, and rivers hke tracer lines across 
 the face of a map. 
 
 From that altitude the earth was 
 beautiful. The enchantment of dis- 
 tance had blotted out the rubbish heaps. 
 The yellow waters of the turbid streams 
 glistened in the sun and the very mud 
 itself, which the day before had pre- 
 vented my flight, was now but a smooth, 
 golden surface. 
 
 "A Public Hanging in War Time" 
 
 On July 12 it was rumored that a 
 soldier had been sentenced to be hung 
 the next day at ten o'clock for an un- 
 speakable crime. The gallows was al- 
 ready built on the edge of the camp at 
 Bazoilles. I saw it on my afternoon 
 trip and knew that the report was true. 
 Being interested in the psychology of 
 such a scene on the men present, I put 
 aside my inward rebellion at so grue- 
 some a sight and arranged my trip so 
 100 
 
PEN PieTURES ' 
 
 as to be present. I reached the camp at 
 nine forty-five and was the last man ad- 
 mitted. The gallows was built in the 
 center of the semicircle facing two hills 
 which came abruptly together, leaving a 
 large grass plot at their base. This 
 formed a natural amphitheater. About 
 two thousand soldiers, both white and 
 colored, were seated on the grass inside 
 a rope inclosure. A company of sol- 
 diers from another camp had been 
 marched in to act as guards, and they 
 formed a complete circle standing just 
 outside the ropes and extending down 
 to the gallows on either side. 
 
 Many French civilians and visiting 
 soldiers lined the edges or looked down 
 from points of vantage on the hillside. 
 I stood on one side about one hundred 
 feet from the "trap." At nine fifty a 
 Red Cross ambulance drove up, and the 
 prisoner, his hands bound behind him, 
 alighted, and accompanied by a guard 
 and the ofiicials, walked up a dozen 
 wooden steps to the platform. He was 
 101 
 
THE FIGtiT FDK THE ARGONNE 
 
 escorted to the front of the platform, 
 and in a clear, strong voice spoke to the 
 almost breathless crowd. He acknowl- 
 edged with sorrow his crime, and urged 
 upon all the necessity of being true to 
 God and their country. He stepped 
 back on the "trap," the black cap was 
 drawn over his head, the noose placed 
 about his neck, the "trap" sprung, and 
 with a sickening thud he dropped to his 
 doom. For twenty minutes, from nine 
 fifty to ten ten, his body hung there be- 
 fore he was pronounced by the attend- 
 ing surgeon officially dead. 
 
 I never witnessed a twenty minutes 
 of such deathly silence. Two guards 
 fainted, and the effect on the crowd was 
 indescribable. I overheard a colored 
 fellow say, "I never want to do any- 
 thing bad again as long as I live." 
 
 The body was immediately cut down, 
 placed in a coffin, and taken in the am- 
 bulance to its burial. It was a silent, 
 thoughtful company that went out from 
 that tragic scene. 
 
 102 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 "The American Dead" 
 
 "Will we be able to locate the body 
 of our boy?'' 
 
 So often has this question been asked 
 me that I must take a moment to answer 
 it. 
 
 I watched two American miUtary 
 burial plots grow from the first lone 
 grave to small cities of our noble dead. 
 One was at Bazoilles, half way between 
 Chaumont and Toul. The other was at 
 Baccarat near the Alsatian border. 
 Each grave was marked with a little 
 wooden cross bearing the name and rank 
 of the soldier, and beside each cross an 
 American flag. 
 
 Many were buried in French ceme- 
 teries. At Neufchateau a section was 
 set aside for the use of our American 
 army. When I visited it there were 
 about one hundred new-made graves 
 all plainly marked, and fresh flowers on 
 each grave. 
 
 Of course most of the French ceme- 
 103 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 teries were Catholic, and Protestant 
 bodies could not be granted burial 
 within the walls. A touching story is 
 told of an American Protestant soldier 
 buried close outside the wall of a Cath- 
 olic graveyard. During the night 
 French civilians tore down the wall at 
 that place and rebuilt it around their 
 comrade of a different faith. It was a 
 beautiful symbol of the new dawn of 
 peace when all nations and all creeds 
 shall recognize the common brotherhood 
 of all God's children. 
 
 France a Great Scrap Heap 
 
 Now that the war is over, France is a 
 vast junk heap of arms and equipment 
 that cost a mint of money and the brains 
 and lives of millions of men. 
 
 For generations to come the soil of 
 France will be disclosing to the peasants 
 who till her fields, the fragments of 
 war's destructive power and the bones 
 of heroes who bled and died. 
 
 On the battlefields I saw innumerable 
 104 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 quantities of equipment, together with 
 guns and ammunition, which had cost 
 millions to produce but were valueless 
 in so far as their future use was con- 
 cerned. I saw the Place de la Concorde 
 and the Tuileries Garden in Paris 
 packed with one thousand captured 
 German guns and more than a score of 
 Boche planes and observation balloons. 
 On one great pile were three thousand 
 Boche helmets, carefully wired together 
 and closely guarded so that souvenir 
 hunters could not slip them away. It 
 seemed a terrible price to pay for object 
 lessons for the great celebrations com- 
 memorating the overthrow of autocracy. 
 But having paid the price it was right 
 to use the trophies. 
 
 As the boys went into battle they left 
 behind them great salvage piles of 
 things they would not need in the fight. 
 As they came out of the battle they left 
 great piles of salvage which they fer- 
 vently hoped the world would never 
 need to use again. 
 
 105 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 With the world's war bills mounting 
 into the billions, and the value of the 
 salvage piles an almost negligible 
 amount, the material waste of war is 
 appalling. If it will teach the nations 
 to be as generous toward the great re- 
 construction program as they were 
 toward the overthrow of that autocracy 
 which threatened the world's freedom, 
 then the waste of war has not been in 
 vain. 
 
 At Bar le Due I saw great ware- 
 houses under management of the 
 French government stacked to the roof 
 with auto tires and tubes. I had driven 
 with our Division Y. M. C. A. chief. Dr. 
 Norton, from Neuf chateau to exchange 
 an auto load of tires which our half 
 dozen cars had worn out, for an equal 
 number of new tires. And I knew that 
 these great piles formed but a small 
 percentage of the hundreds of thousands 
 of rubber shoes needed for the vehicles 
 of war. 
 
 I visited the great Renault automo- 
 106 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 bile plant at Nancy, which the French 
 government had taken over for a repair 
 station. Literally thousands of army 
 trucks and official cars were passing 
 through this station in a constant 
 stream, either to be quickly repaired or 
 thrown into the junk heap. Our own 
 case was typical. Our Renault truck 
 had broken down at Luneville, twenty 
 miles from Nancy. No local man could 
 make the repairs. Through our Amer- 
 ican army headquarters at Nancy we 
 applied to this French repair station. 
 At eight o'clock next morning I was on 
 hand to pilot a heavy wrecking truck to 
 our car. A towing hawser was at- 
 tached ; their second pilot took charge of 
 our truck, load and all; and before noon 
 we were safely landed at the repair sta- 
 tion. A hasty examination by a Re- 
 nault expert revealed the fact that ten 
 days or more would be required to make 
 the necessary repairs. A day or two 
 was the longest time they could allow 
 any car to remain. So after searching 
 107 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGDNNE 
 
 in vain for another garage that would 
 undertake the repairs, we towed the 
 truck to our Y. M. C. A. garage and 
 stored it, that it might be salvaged at 
 some future time. 
 
 France is full of broken-down trucks, 
 touring cars, and ambulances; of worn 
 out engines and the rolling stock of her 
 railways. From the English Channel to 
 the Persian Gulf her battlefields are lit- 
 tered with brass and iron and wood and 
 steel. Besides these there are the great 
 piles of garments of wool and rubber 
 and leather, and the wasting stores of 
 army blankets and cots and surgical 
 supplies. 
 
 Into the larger salvage piles will go 
 the multitude of tents and temporary 
 wooden barracks for the housing of the 
 fighters from all nations, who for four 
 dreadful years held that "far-flung 
 battle line." 
 
 A part of this larger salvage pile will 
 be the temporary hospitals. In less 
 than a year America alone built and 
 108 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 equipped hospitals which were capable 
 of accommodating a million wounded. 
 
 Then from the battle-line to the At- 
 lantic coast we must think of the vast 
 supply stations and warehouses, the 
 great engineering plants and repair 
 shops. America not only built in 
 France the greatest ice plant in the 
 world but she made every preparation 
 on a gigantic scale. 
 
 When she entered the war she went 
 in to win, even if it would take ten mil- 
 lion of her men to finish the job. Had 
 she done less, the final chapter would 
 not yet have been written, and a differ- 
 ent story might needs have been told. 
 
 Hospital Baeracks 
 
 Day by day I watched the magic 
 growth of the wooden hospital barracks 
 at Rimacourt with accommodations for 
 fifteen thousand men, and was inter- 
 ested in the engineering feat by which 
 an abundance of fresh water was 
 pumped from drilled wells in an old 
 109 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 chateau to a great reservoir on the 
 mountain side, and piped from there to 
 every building and ward. 
 
 I watched the same process at Ba- 
 zoilles as, nestled in the wonderful 
 Meuse valley, that great hospital grew 
 from a single base (the Johns Hopkins 
 Unit) until it included seven bases and 
 was able to care for thirty-five thou- 
 sand wounded. 
 
 I spent one night there ministering to 
 the wounded as they were unloaded 
 from the great American Red Cross 
 train. I watched the process with pride 
 and amazement. So well organized was 
 the army Red Cross that when a train 
 was announced the ambulances loaded 
 with stretcher bearers were rushed to 
 the unloading platform. In seven min- 
 utes three hundred helpless men were 
 gently taken from their comfortable 
 berths in the train and carried on 
 stretchers to the platform from which 
 the ambulances speedily bore them to 
 the waiting wards. 
 
 110 
 
PEN PICTURES 
 
 During the night of which I speak 
 five trainloads of gassed men from the 
 Chateau-Thierry fight were thus im- 
 loaded at Bazoilles. 
 
 Ill 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 MORAL FLASHES 
 
 THIS chapter is plainly labeled so 
 that anyone who chooses may es- 
 cape it. 
 
 A preacher without a preachment is 
 a paradox. We do not fear the para- 
 dox, much less the criticism of the over- 
 religious. But we frankly believe that 
 the solution of the moral and spiritual 
 problems of the soldier, as the army at- 
 tempted to solve them, gives a hint to 
 the churches which dare not be ignored. 
 
 The soldier was more truly rehgious 
 "over there" than he was before he 
 "fared forth" on his great adventure. 
 And the reason was not merely in the 
 fact that fear of death drives men 
 nearer to God. That reason has been 
 present in every war. The history of 
 all wars proves that war engenders such 
 112 
 
MORAL FLASHES 
 
 hatred, recklessness, and immorality 
 that fighters have come out of the con- 
 flict more godless than when they en- 
 tered. The veterans of our own Civil 
 War bear abundant testimony to the de- 
 bauchery of youth during the four long 
 years of that struggle. 
 
 What is the story of the morality of 
 the American army during the struggle 
 just ended? Already statistics have 
 been compiled showing that the per- 
 centage of disease resulting from im- 
 morality was so small in comparison 
 with the percentage even in civil life as 
 to be almost negligible. If we could 
 compare the army life of the present 
 with the army life of the past, I am con- 
 fident the contrast would be even more 
 startling. 
 
 Our army was a clean army — an 
 army whose actions and modes of life 
 squared with the highest standards of 
 moral and religious teachings. That 
 there were notable exceptions no one 
 will deny. 
 
 113 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 Why were our soliders in this bitter 
 world conflict better and stronger than 
 the soldiers of previous wars? The an- 
 swer I want you to think about (there 
 are other answers) is that the army and 
 navy officers, from President Wilson 
 down, planned wisely and sanely to 
 meet the physical, mental, and moral 
 needs of our boys both at home and over 
 seas. And the results achieved proved 
 the wisdom of the endeavor. Had the 
 plans been less comprehensive the re- 
 suits would certainly have been far less 
 gratifying. 
 
 My own experiences cause me to 
 draw the same conclusions that many 
 others have drawn. "Over there" man 
 stood out before his Maker, his very 
 soul uncovered, and prayed with a 
 frankness he had never expressed be- 
 fore. And God revealed himself. We 
 may not understand the psychology, 
 nevertheless one soldier saw, or thought 
 he saw, Christ in a shell-hole stretching 
 out his hands in forgiveness and bless- 
 114 
 
MORAL FLASHES 
 
 ing. Another saw God the Father giv- 
 ing absolution as his straining eyes 
 caught a glimpse of the crucifix. An- 
 other felt "The Presence" as the inward 
 quietness which follows action crept 
 over him. Whatever the form, the ef- 
 fect was the same. Men met God face 
 to face and lived. 
 
 A captain of infantry coming out of 
 the Argonne fight on September 30, 
 said: "I have never been a professed 
 Christian. I have always considered the 
 testimony of so-called Christians as the 
 imagination of religious fanatics. But 
 I saw Christ up there, and I shall never 
 scoff again." A private standing near 
 turned to me and said: "We all felt the 
 same way about it. It was mighty real 
 to us." 
 
 Not many decades ago preachers used 
 death as their most telling plea for 
 sinners to be converted. The tragic 
 death of a "sinner" in a community 
 where evangelistic services were being 
 held was always held up as the special 
 115 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 warning of God. The crude way in 
 which this truth was presented does not, 
 however, disturb the fundamental fact 
 that death does have a sobering ef- 
 fect on human judgment and human 
 will, and that in the presence of death 
 souls do more naturally seek after and 
 find God. 
 
 A private of Company I, 165th In- 
 fantry, was in Base Hospital No. 117 
 suffering from shell-shock. He said: 
 "There were only seven of my company 
 left. We killed our share of the Huns 
 before they got us, but the slaughter 
 was awful. To see all your comrades 
 shot down around you and then to lie 
 helpless on the field — ^minutes seemed 
 ages. And decisions were registered in 
 heaven which we can never get away 
 from." This boy had been gay and 
 frivolous at home, with two automobiles 
 at his command and plenty of money to 
 use as he wished. He had never been 
 forced to the serious consideration of the 
 problems of his soul-life until he 
 116 
 
MORAL FLASHES 
 
 squarely faced those problems on the 
 field of carnage. 
 
 I was asked to speak at the Y. M. 
 C. A. hut at Rebeval Barracks, where a 
 veterinary hospital occupies the same in- 
 closure as Base Hospital No. 66. My 
 audience was made up largely of East 
 Side New Yorkers. The secretary, 
 Stuart, of Jamaica, said to me before 
 the meeting: "Give them the straight 
 punch. You know how." He led the 
 song service and put plenty of "pep" 
 in it. All the boys were singing who 
 could. The rest were ''hollering" and 
 thought they were singing. Even the 
 French soldiers and civilians who could 
 not understand stood at the windows in- 
 terested spectators. The message was a 
 straight-from-the-shoulder presentation 
 of the life of Jesus Christ and the claims 
 of God upon the lives of all men. Their 
 keen and close interest showed their re- 
 spect and their spontaneous applause at 
 the close was proof that the message had 
 at least registered. Now, no one is so 
 117 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 foolish as to believe that those "rough 
 horsemen" went out from that meeting 
 to give up all their bad habits, but no 
 one will dare deny that their expression 
 of approval and appreciation was an ac- 
 knowledgment of Christ himself and 
 that they were for the time at least 
 better men. 
 
 A meeting in a converted hay-loft in 
 Brouville was suddenly announced by 
 the Y. M. C. A. secretary. The big 
 stone building was used to billet the sol- 
 diers. Their ''bunks" filled almost 
 every available foot of space. In one 
 corner a group were playing cards. In 
 the middle of the room a lank, angular 
 figure was "coiled" about a mandolin, 
 coaxing an old hymn from its strings. 
 Some were sleeping, others were chat- 
 ting, and a few were reading by the Hght 
 of tallow candles. The secretary an- 
 nounced the meeting. It was Sunday 
 evening. Song books were distributed. 
 The mandoUn player volunteered to 
 "pitch the tune." Three or four hynms 
 118 
 
MORAL FLASHES 
 
 suggested by the fellows were sung 
 heartily. A brief petition asked for for- 
 giveness and blessings on the boys who 
 with undaunted courage would soon go 
 into action. A few verses of Scripture 
 served to introduce the message of the 
 hour. Quietly but earnestly the prac- 
 tical side of a man's religion was pre- 
 sented. The card game, which up to 
 this time proceeded without disturbance, 
 was now voluntarily abandoned and 
 the players' attention riveted on the 
 speaker. When it was over they quietly 
 returned to their game, more thought- 
 ful, because they had themselves chosen 
 to hear the truth. 
 
 The Y. M. C. A. hut at Reherrey was 
 a mile and a half behind the line. 
 Briggs was the secretary. His fine, 
 erect carriage and soldierly bearing 
 brought him many an unconscious salute 
 from the buck private. He was a Billy 
 Sunday convert. "I have drunk enough 
 rum to float a battleship" was the way 
 he told of his wild career. The boys at 
 119 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 Reherrey loved and respected him. His 
 Bible class was the most enthusiastic I 
 saw in France. When he announced a 
 Sunday evening service the hut was 
 filled. Candles served as chandelier and 
 desk lamp. With a sergeant who was a 
 live wire at the piano and Briggs as 
 song leader, the singing of the fellows 
 not only "raised the roof" but it also 
 raised the spirits of the men. 
 
 About half way through the talk a 
 terrific explosion told us that Fritz was 
 getting busy. Quietly all candles were 
 blown out. It was a military order. 
 Aside from this not a man stirred. The 
 message went right on, punctuated by 
 the exploding shells. There was no fear 
 but an intense interest in the great call 
 of God to the duty of the hour. At the 
 close the men pressed forward to grip 
 the speaker's hand, and as we walked 
 out under the stars, a widow's only son 
 acknowledged that he had long been the 
 victim of the drink curse and had broken 
 his mother's heart. "I have taken my 
 120 
 
MORAL FLASHES 
 
 last drink," he said; "I will write to my 
 mother, but she cannot believe me. 
 Won't you write her too and tell her 
 that her son has given himself to the 
 Lord Jesus Christ?" 
 
 The most impressive thing to me 
 about the religion of the soldiers was its 
 wholesomeness. ''Over there" a man 
 dared to be natural. The mask of pre- 
 tense was torn off. Men were not 
 hypocrites in the face of death. They 
 were free; and that freedom showed 
 itself in their religion as well as in their 
 pleasures. The soldier whom I met in 
 the front line trench with "Z need Thee 
 every hour'' printed across the front 
 of his gas mask, was not considered a 
 fanatic. 
 
 And when an American Bishop con- 
 sented to share a Sunday night program 
 with Elsie Janis, the famous vaudeville 
 actress, the great Bishop became sud- 
 denly greater in the estimation of Chris- 
 tian and non-Christian alike, and the 
 passionately expressive- *'Elsie" had a 
 121 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 new and wholesome interpretation put 
 upon her fun and her jokes by the magic 
 which that combination wrought. 
 
 My plea is for that type of Chris- 
 tianity, so pure as to be above reproach 
 and question and so genuinely human as 
 to enjoy the wit and humor and even the 
 frivolities of life, its Christliness Hfting 
 its pleasures out of the mists of evil into 
 which we have permitted the devil to 
 drag them, and placing them side by 
 side with the more serious considerations 
 of our hfe work. 
 
 My observations teach me that the 
 effort of the army to solve the funda- 
 mental problem of the soldier's spiritual 
 life met with a large measure of success. 
 
 The army took millions of our boys 
 from every walk of life. It sent two 
 and a quarter millions across the sea. It 
 fed them an abundance of plain but 
 wholesome food. It gave them plenty 
 of hard exercise to convert that food 
 into hard muscle. It demanded atten- 
 tion, so that a keen mind directed a 
 122 
 
MORAL FLASHES 
 
 strong body. It provided the leisure 
 hour with huts where the touch of home 
 suggested the writing of milhons of 
 home letters which otherwise would 
 never have been written. Concerts, 
 lectures, reading rooms with books and 
 magazines and games of all kinds were 
 furnished to all — free. Even something 
 homemade to eat and drink, in addition 
 to the regular canteen supplies, which 
 covered practically every legitimate de- 
 sire of the men, could be purchased at 
 reasonable cost. 
 
 Having done all this for his body and 
 his mind, it took a broad view of his 
 spiritual needs, and carefully selected 
 chaplains from the various denomina- 
 tions and creeds and sent them with the 
 boys as their spiritual advisers. So 
 splendidly was the choice of rehgious 
 leaders made that often on the battle- 
 field a Protestant minister or a Jewish 
 rabbi would borrow a crucifix and bring 
 the word of comfort to a dying Cath- 
 ohc; or a priest would read the Bible or 
 123 
 
THE FIGHT FOR THE ARGONNE 
 
 the Prayer Book to a dying Jew or 
 Protestant. On one occasion a woman 
 canteen worker aided a Jewish rabbi to 
 give absolution to a Cathohc boy in a 
 Y. M. C. A. hut when a priest could not 
 be secured in time. In all this is there 
 not more than a hint for the Church of 
 to-morrow? 
 
 These our boys, now men, have come 
 back to become the great leaders of our 
 new civihzation, and they will be intol- 
 erant of dogmatic denominationahsm, 
 and well they may. The church that 
 holds their respect and commands their 
 allegiance must have a world view of 
 Christianity and a Godlike love for the 
 lives of all men. And the theology of 
 to-morrow must be as broad as the 
 teachings of the Bible. 
 
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